I don’t get sick very often — so when I do, I am the center of the sick universe.
I wrap myself in afghans and drape myself over the furniture as though I am one tiny, trembling breath away from fainting. I remind those around me of my tragic illness. I hold the back of my hand to my forehead, and I say “woe” a lot.
Put me in a Yorkshire manor, and you’ve got yourself a Brontë character.
To those poor souls who have the bad fortune of being around me when I’m sick, I apologize. I know I ask for a lot of things, often speculating that it’s my “last request,” and sometimes I can be quite irrational about obtaining these bizarre items.
In no particular order, here are the things I’ve requested during my most recent cold/flu/virus:
Old INXS songs.
A grapefruit.
The Best of P.M. Dawn CD.
To be magically beamed inside this lovely Audrey Tautou Chanel No.5 commercial.
Blueberry gum.
Spaghetti-Os.
A cold washcloth.
A hot bath.
The “Biggie and Tupac” documentary.
My flannel pajama pants with the monkeys on them.
Vicks.
For the air outside to not smell so much like Denny’s.
Orange juice.
Leeches to get the bad blood out.
Many episodes of “Monk.”
Light blue nail polish.
The Relaxman Relaxation Capsule. (Only $39,995!)
Peppermint tea.
Something that “tastes purple.”
A new set of lungs.
My ashes to be scattered in the Ganges.
The good news is that my friends and loved ones don’t have to put up with this very often. In fact, I’m already feeling better.
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