Tag Archives: Sick

Karmic Justice Sucks

I’m not into astrology stuff. I don’t think anyone can predict the future. Who gives a fuck about tarot cards? And so on. I only believe in the idea of “karma” to the lightest degree, i.e. maybe if you do good stuff in the world good stuff will be more likely to happen to you just because you’re increasing the good in the world and not because someone has a fucking tally board of the bad/good shit you do. Despite my beliefs I seem to have this strange gift, especially at work, where whatever I joke about going wrong usually happens. I’ve never stopped to see how consistently this happens mostly because I’m skeptical about it. I joke about things, and they happen. And they keep happening because I keep joking about them.

From my last post you might recall that I’ve been sick and miserable the past week. And from how this post is going you might expect there to be some big cosmic reason for me being sick and there is. Sort of. At work I discovered that a few of our talented supervisors were scheduled to have Tuesday off so naturally I also didn’t want to come into work because I knew it would be a shitshow. I discovered this the Thursday prior and jokingly asked another supervisor if I could also have Tuesday off. She replied with a resoundingly firm “no.” I then joked, joked, that I might be sick on Tuesday and, oh man, even if it was four days away I felt the sickness already coming on.

And guess what fucking happened?

Not only was I sick Tuesday but was sick the entire weekend. It really hit me hard Friday and lasted all the way until Wednesday/Thursday. I really put an effort into coming into work Tuesday just to tell the universe to go fuck itself but nope, I was miserable and missed work. Just as I was joking about. This also makes me look like a total lying asshole. (“Haha, might be sick Tuesday!” Then I proceed to call in sick. “No, really. I am sick!”) Luckily I came into work Wednesday with my voice sounding scratchy, frog-like, and constantly cracking so at least people knew I was actually sick. I wasn’t faking my sickness, it was just the universe fucking me over for joking about it.

And another curious thing. An employee last week was fired due to poor attendance. He was also notorious for showing up to work baked off his ass. Bloodshot eyes, totally red and barely able to hold them open. Apparently he said he had pink eye. Haha, right? Pink eye. Sure… He even (supposedly) had a doctor’s note saying so. Naturally it didn’t stop me from endlessly talking shit about him and his supposed pink eye diagnosis.

Guess what happened Monday?

My eye hurt, was red, watery, and had all sorts of nasty discharge coming out of it. While I hadn’t been to a doctor or had ever been diagnosed with pink eye, it sure sounded like pink eye. And to hell with actually going to a doctor and having it confirmed because then I might have to admit my karmic faults. At least I can live in reasonable denial by not having it confirmed. My eye did clear up the next day so maybe it wasn’t pink eye, but still. In my sick and slightly paranoid state I started to wonder if the universe was trying to tell me something.

And as a sort of bloody icing on my karmic cake, I had a terrible nose bleed on Monday. And since I had been eating asprin nearly nonstop (and in case you weren’t aware, asprin stops blood from clotting…) my nosebleed was also nonstop. It bleed for literally 55 minutes. So there I was struck in the bathroom at 5:30 a.m.  thinking I was going to die from a nosebleed. Like I’d lose enough blood, pass out, and die before anyone was awake to actually save me. Because I was taking asprin. Because I was sick. With possible pink eye. Because I joked about the two things last week to get out of work on Tuesday. You can’t make this shit up.

I don’t know my overall karmic standing with the universe but I like to think it should be somewhat good. I don’t treat people like shit. I try to help my fellow humans out. Hell, I even let people merge into my lane while driving. I’m that guy. A guy like that certainly has good karmic standing, right? And once again to bring this all back around, I’m skeptical. I wrote this entire post talking about the universe trying to fuck me over, but do I really believe it? No. Of course not. I don’t even know where to start if I did think I was supposed to learn something from all of this. If anything I find it immensely funny. And if you learn and understand one single thing about existence, life, the universe, and everything, it’s that it’s hilariously stupid and makes no sense. And if this past few weeks has had anything to teach me, maybe it’s that. The universe is a goddamn prankster. You have to get a laugh out of it.

Being Sick Sucks

What’s going on guys? As is standard here, I’ve been slacking again. It’s a typical process really: I write a ton of stuff on Sunday and Monday and usually panic-post something on Tuesday, and feeling achieved I slack off for the remainder of the week. Repeat this weekly. But as you can guess given the title, I have a reason for my slacking over the past week: I’m sick. And not just sick, miserably so. Being sick is something so universally terrible and being one of those “low-hanging fruit” posts it should be really easy to write. That hasn’t been the case. Why? I think because being sick is so universally terrible that it’s hard to complain about it without adding any new information that people don’t already know. Everyone knows being sick sucks, and so what?

I was trying to churn out a post like this about six or seven months ago when I was crippled for over a week with bronchitis. Bronchitis was awful. I was used to the common cold where you feel like trash for a day or two and then get along with your life relatively easily. Where you can still summon enough motivation to survive day to day life with minimal issues. Bronchitis was a whole other level of misery that I wasn’t aware of or prepared to deal with. I physically couldn’t do anything. I’d lay in bed for hours needing to use the bathroom or make a cup of coffee but not having the willpower to actually get up. This is how my current sickness has been. A total lack of energy.

When I was beginning to get sick I tried to remain positive. I told myself I would take it easy, watch some videos, read some books, and do some writing. To be productive without being physically productive I guess. Sounds like a plan, right? Wrong. Apparently this type of sickness brings along with it such complete and total exhaustion that I found I couldn’t do anything. The task of writing seemed too strenuous somehow. Watching movies and reading requires focus and was also too strenuous. Hell, even listening to music was too much to undertake for some reason. So over the past five days I have done literally nothing. This is why there hasn’t been a being sick sucks post until now: having the common cold isn’t that bad and is nothing to write about but anything serious wipes you out to a degree where you can’t write anything at all. And once you get better? It’s hard to channel those feelings as clearly as when you’re actually sick, miserable, and exhausted.

By far the worst part of being sick is the mindset that it brings with it. Something about being sick puts the fact that you’ll eventually get old, your body will fall apart, and you’ll die directly into conscious thought, although maybe that’s just me being dramatic. Being sick to me is like a temporary version of dying, where your body falls apart and stops doing what you need it to do but in a temporary way. Isn’t this what being old is like? You see older people constantly sitting, limping around, and generally looking like shit and they usually say it’s because their bodies feel like shit. I always seem to blame something vague on them like a “lack of willpower” for not tackling a staircase like a 20-year-old, but are they even physically able to do so? No. No more than I am able to go outside and run a mile because I’m so physically fucked right now. My body won’t allow it. Being this sick makes me feel old, and it being the inevitable future that awaits me (and everyone else) is depressing as fuck. What would I do if I felt like this all the time? It’s scary to think about. I understand why people want to kill themselves in old age. If you consistently feel terrible and your quality of life is degraded far enough life might end up not having anything enjoyable to offer you at all.

I’ve found I’ve always favored a “mind-over-matter” outlook in life. Like if you have total command over your brain you can overcome anything. This was especially prominent when I was an avid runner. Running is as much of a mental task as a physical task and it’s easy to think it’s all a mental task. Like if you will something enough, or put your mind into a unique enough state you can do anything. Like the Buddhist monks that protest by self-immolation without screaming or flailing, surely we all can learn to perfectly control our bodies given perfect mental control. It’s the belief that anyone can run a marathon without practicing if they just “focus enough” or some bullshit. (If I recall correctly there was a How I Met Your Mother episode where Barney decides to run a marathon saying something like “How hard can it be? You just keep running and don’t stop.” He actually wins too.) If you really want a new PR during a race, you just do it. Sure training is important, but the most important thing is mindset. And if an 80-year-old wanted to tackle a staircase like a 20-year-old, all they need to do is “focus” or some stupid shit like that.

But this isn’t true, and being sick makes it so obvious. Imagining being sick I would think something like, “Even if I do feel bad, I can still ‘be tough’ and make myself be productive.” Like if I just put enough mental power into thinking about feeling well that I could actually be well. Or that I could minimize the effect that being sick actually had on me. But when you’re physically sick and exhausted you just can’t bring yourself to do anything. I would sit on the couch for hours feeling miserable and while knowing I could get up and take some medicine, I didn’t. Sitting on the couch was where I was and taking the tiny bit of physical effort to get medicine, even if it would bring me near instant relief, was beyond me. This is how it was with everything. I didn’t write. I didn’t read. I didn’t watch movies. I just existed in the past five days feeling like shit and just hoping to feel normal as soon as possible. It wasn’t that I didn’t have enough motivation or willpower; it was the fact that I had none at all.

I also like to imagine the opposite of being sick where you are physically okay but mentally not well, i.e. depression or other mental health troubles. Being sick your physical body won’t let your motivated mind do anything, while being mentally sick your mental state won’t let your physically healthy body work properly. The body needs to work harmoniously together and you’d be tempted to even think that the idea of mental health being separate from physical health is wrong; health is the interplay between the two and trying to separate one from the other is impossible to do. Obviously having a distinction between the two is helpful, but it’s also fun to think that it could just be a useful construct created by us humans.

I’m still sick and trying my damndest to tie all of this shit together into a good blog post. It isn’t working. I feel like I’m at about 50 or 60% maximum health here and I’m pretty sure it shows. I feel like I’m rambling. I feel like I’m stating the obvious. Do I want to delete it and start over? No, because that’s a lot of work. Even proofreading this was difficult as I discovered I repeated like two or three paragraphs without knowing it. But this is what being sick does to you I guess. I’ve always wanted to write a post about how much being sick sucks, and if it turns out to be awful, well, it’s because being sick sucks. Maybe the next post will be better. That one might be about being sick too, but more on how I brought it on myself through bad karma. Or something.