Death

It appears that my talent for the Winter of 2008-2009 (yes, I know that it is now Spring) is to get sick. Repeatedly. Oh so sick.

I didn’t used to be a sickie. I’m running almost 102 for the third day in a row now, and this is my third or fourth fever illness of the season.

Oh woe is me. Pity, pity, woe.

While in this state I have decided that surely at least a small percentage of people currently locked up in mental facilities for being “disturbed” are actually just running chronic fevers. The shooting pains in all of your bones feel so much better if you rock and hum stupid songs.

Mulling over that led me to the question – what is happening that a fever makes your bones hurt? Judging by how it feels, it surely must be something quite dramatic. Aren’t fevers supposed to kill viruses with heat? Maybe there are some Good Guy casualties as well. I’ve settled on the idea that white blood cells are dying everywhere while you have a fever, and while they die they make a big fuss of it and gasp and choke and clutch at the nerve bell and ring it for all they’re worth. Man down! Man down! (shooting pain. shooting pain.)

The end. I’ll be back when the death leaves me.