Still Human! Surviving The Winter Outbreak

humor, sick, flu, Modern PhilosopherIt’s not very often, Modern Philosophers, that the first thing I do upon waking is to check to make sure I’m still human.

But that’s exactly what I did every morning this week.

You see, I’d never been this sick.  Normally, if germs manage to penetrate my defenses, they annoy me for a day or two at most, and then find a weaker host upon which to prey.

In fact, on Monday, I boldly declared that whatever the hell was going on inside my body was going to end that night.

And I sincerely believed that.

I suppose this proves that a Film degree does not trump a Medical degree in some areas.

So why was I checking every morning to make sure I was human?  Because I was convinced that I had contracted the strain of the flu that set off the Zombie Apocalypse on The Walking Dead.

I was so sure I was going to die in my sleep and then return to the living as a walker.

zombies, humor, sick, flu, Modern PhilosopherFinding a girlfriend has been difficult enough as a human.  There’s no way it’s going to happen if I turn into a Zombie!

The only things I have working for me are my sense of humor and quick wit, and those are gone once you become a brain dead sack of rotting flesh.

And there’s no way I’d want to turn in my sleep because that would mean trudging around in my pajamas until someone was kind enough to poke a hole in my brain.  While sick this week, I was sleeping in flannel pants, an old tee shirt, and a ratty sweatshirt.

That is not a great look for joining my local Zombie herd.  I’d probably be ostracized.

The lack of shoes would probably be the worst part about it, though.  All that walking in bare feet?  Feet freak me out as it is, so I can only imagine what the sight of Zombie feet would do to me.  Then think about those bare feet after they’ve trudged down hundreds of miles of winter roads.

Ugh.  No thank you.

So, yes, I was tempted to wear something more suitable for the Zombie life when I went to bed every night.  And I did consider sleeping in my running shoes.

Luckily, I was too distracted by how damn sick I was to make any ridiculous fashion decisions when I crawled into bed every night and prayed sleep would come.

Atlas, humor, sick, flu, Modern PhilosopherAnd sleep did not come.

It’s impossible to drift off when you’re carrying the weight of the plague on your shoulders.

Sunday night was the worst.

I went to bed at 8:15, got up a little after 6:00 the next morning, and my FitBit reported that I’d slept for only four hours and five minutes.

I kept waking up every half hour to either go to the bathroom, have a coughing fit, or blow my nose.

I also had a horrible case of the chills.  I was shivering so violently, that I was afraid I was going to bounce out of the bed.  This after I’d put on a second sweatshirt and thrown another comforter on the bed.

Add crazy nightmares to the mix, and you get a night of sleep so bad that you wake up feeling even worse than you did when you’d hoped a good night’s sleep was all you needed.

I still went to work, though.  In fact, I even put in a little overtime.  I was awake, so why not go into the office?

Plus, I don’t like being alone when my body is betraying me in such a manner.  I want someone there to call an ambulance and rush me to the hospital if I finally collapse.

And there needs to be someone there to ensure that Zombie Austin does not wander out into the world to do harm.

I felt well enough to be at work.  I just had a headache and the constant need to sneeze and cough.  There was no fever.  My tummy only rose up in anger a couple of times, but never anything serious.

Of course, that didn’t stop people from telling me how pale I looked.  One person even stopped to tell me I looked horrible.

Those wonderful people skills really helped build my confidence and put me on the quick path to recovery.

The hardest part of every day when when I went to bed.  I knew that if I could just get a solid night’s sleep, the germs would grow bored and no longer want to feed off my body.

But it’s nearly impossible to sleep when you can’t breathe, your nose won’t stop running, and you’re fixated on turning into a pajama wearing Zombie.

running, humor, sick, flu, Modern PhilosopherThe curse is finally broken, though.  After a pleasant night’s slumber, I woke up ready to run for the first time in a week.

It certainly wasn’t the fastest three and a half miles I’ve ever run, but after a week without getting in my miles, it was a most welcome run.

It had been more than twenty-one months since I’d gone a week without running.  As much as I can hate the activity at times, I desperately needed to be back out on the road.  Being inactive for that long was almost as painful as being sick.

So in summation, I would definitely pass on the Winter Outbreak.  While it might be the current fad making the rounds on social media, it has nothing positive to offer.

Stay healthy.  Stay human.  Maybe give a little more thought to what you wear to bed.

You know.  Just in case…

About Austin

Native New Yorker who's fled to the quiet life in Maine. I write movies, root for the Yankees, and shovel lots of snow.
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15 Responses to Still Human! Surviving The Winter Outbreak

  1. SD Gates says:

    You poor thing – sounds like you have had an absolutely horrible week – and sick alone, with no one to check in on you. I am so glad you are starting to feel better and were able to go for a run! Things are looking up then? At least you don’t have to worry about being a poorly dressed zombie anymore!!

  2. davidprosser says:

    Glad you’re back in the land of the living Austin. Manflu can be quite serious as I proved too.
    Hugs

  3. ksbeth says:

    glad you made it back to the mortal world.

  4. markbialczak says:

    Glad to hear you are back feeling better, Austin.

  5. I don’t know, Austin. I’ll bet in the zombie lifestyle there are a lot more hookups, and far more meetings by chance in all those crowd scenes. (“Me? Oh, I’ve been undead like five months now. I moved out here because the cities are too well protected.”) You could meet a cute, female zombie, get to know each other, fall in love and escape the dead-rat race, as founding members of a quiet little zombie commune in the woods of Maine.
    That’s just the elevator pitch, but I think you can flesh it out.

  6. AAristizabal says:

    I can’t believe this, but you hate feet as much as my brother does! OMG, Austin! Feet are not so bad; not even zombie feet… And, per the cold uniform, let me tell you we share it: this past weekend I had something of a cold, so I had to use the same uniform (Colombia version), and add up a dose of NyQuil; because there is nothing worse than being a sleepless, sick zombie.

    • Austin says:

      Feet are gross. I’m sorry. And mine are huge, so it’s as if they are mocking me!

      Great minds think alike I guess. I better you looked prettier in your cold uniform than I did. Do you like that uniform more than your Elf costume? 🙂

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