Getting down with the sickness

I have been sick, in one capacity or another, for roughly 3 weeks now. It started out as what I thought was a just cold, then bronchitis, then a lung infection (complete with hacking up slimy yellow chunks while making a noise not dissimilar to a gagging dog), and has now morphed into an ungodly sinus infection. I was also sick two weeks prior to Christmas, and before that, I was sick in September during my vacation in Las Vegas. Someone must have signed me up for the Disease of the Month Club. I think malaria will be in season soon. Looking forward to it.

Once I was past the requisite tangle with chicken pox, I almost never got sick when I was growing up. On the rare occasion that I did catch a cold, it would kick my ass for about 3 days and then I'd be fine. None of this low-level symptomatic shit, fucking with me for weeks on end, while still allowing me to be functional enough to go to work. It seems like the warranty on my immune system has finally run out.

I'm becoming well acquainted with the following process:

Denial: "I am not sick. I'm just tired. I am going to willfully ignore this sore throat. I mean, really, what are the odds that it will morph into a full-blown chest cold in 15 hours? If I don't actually take any cold medication, I don't have a cold, right? Besides...I feel fine. Just a little phlemgy is all. I'll go to bed early. Or have another scotch. I'm fine."

Anger: "Why am I fucking sick AGAIN? Jesus Christ on a motherfucking crutch! And could everyone stop telling me I sound congested? I'm sick, not deaf. I know I sound like Joan Rivers in a gas mask. But thanks for bringing it up, asshat."

Bargaining: "Okay. If it gets really bad, like I start coughing up blood or passing out, I'll call the doctor. Okay, well, maybe I won't have to. If Mucinex is on sale at Duane Reade, I'll get some. But only if I don't feel better by tomorrow. I think it's getting better."

Depression: "I feel terrible. My head feels like it's in a wet blanket. I can't even bring myself to enjoy this episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. And it's even a Vincent D'Onofrio one. And I've only seen it three times, so I forget how it ends. Damn, man. I think I'm out of cough medicine. I've been through 2 bottles since this started. I'm going to be sick forver. The terrorists have won."

Acceptance: "Hey, Mom? Can you send me those antibiotics you offered to send me two weeks ago? I know I said it was going away. Yes, you were right. Thanks. What? Yes. I know I sound congested."