Otherwise know as Whooping Cough. SharkBoy and I are just finishing up a couple weeks of this completely cough horror thing.
If any of you or your loved ones contract this aliment, kill your loved one then kill yourself. Kill anyone who has come in contact or even mentions the name of this fucking disease before any of the symptoms show up. You will be doing humanity a favour. Nuke me from space, it’s the only way to be sure. Kill me with fire. Kill.
I mean it. I’ve never been more embarrassed by an illness before in my life. The worst was being on the subway, suppressing a coughing fit, which just made it worse, and having people look at you like you’re patient zero for The Walking Dead.
How bad can it be?
Look. At. This. Poor. Bastard.
Without all the medical crap around us, this is exactly what our house sounded like for the last 4 weeks. Still does at times, but not as severe. Throw in hoarking and spitting and it’s an accurate Casa RoboShark soundtrack.
For the life of me, I have never experienced an illness so heinous. I kid around – of course I *could* experience worse illnesses, but this one was baffling. Two weeks into it, I honestly thought I was going to wind up in that scene from Mildred Pierce where she loses Kay – covered in a plastic oxygen tent and nurses pumping up the gas…
Seems SharkBoy and I never had this particular illness as kids, nor had we been vaccinated, I guess (Mom? Any vaccination cards from St Francis Xavier School for the Religiously Gifted?), and for some reason Whooping Cough is on the rise. Thankfully we’re on the other side of this heinous ague and not closer to our Disney trip.
That being said, I’m off to Costco to get massive amounts of Cold-FX for the flights to-and-from Florida and Vermont.