The nice doctors there did plenty for me. They took my temperature (101.1), they asked me plenty of probing questions (diarrhea to the max), they gave me some medicine (Promethazine for nausea) and then they sent me on my way. The whole ordeal took a little over an hour and I felt like I was in pretty good hands.
Then I got home.
From 3:00 in the afternoon to around 9:00 at night I believe I had much more in common with the dead than the living. I plopped down in my bed, gathered some water bottles around my bed and figured I would have plenty of time to do my homework for the entire week. But it turns out that writing yesterday's blog entry was the last productive thing I would do for about 24 hours. I put my computer down, threw the blankets over my feverish body and simply died.
I was unconscious for the next 5 or 6 hours and was interrupted only on a few occasions by my girlfriend who would dutifully try to feed me. She was even nice enough to make me some chicken noodle soup (no sodaontheside). I ate about 3 bites, then insisted that she take it away and yelled at her for interrupting my bear-like hibernation for good measure. You know something is wrong when I, the guy who thinks that 2,500 calories a day is a "diet", refuses to eat.
So I was dying. And I imagine if I had any semblance of my conscious remaining, I would have been a little peeved at Hudson for leaving me to die in my single dorm room, friend-less, drug-less and alone. Then my girlfriend did what Hudson could not. For those of you who think the story is about to get dirty, I apologize: she simply gave me four Ibuprofen. I don't know how she thought of it. Maybe her undying love for me in her soul led her to my unused bottle of Ibuprofen in my drawer. Maybe she just wanted to be my living will since I was surely going to die soon. Or maybe she just had the common sense that Hudson didn't have to realize that simple over-the-counter pain pills like Ibuprofen help sick people. Whatever the case was, I took the four Ibuprofen.
And they rocked.
After a brief hour or so of sleep, I awoke feeling like I could run a triathlon while simultaneously fighting Evander Holyfield. I could actually stand up and go to the bathroom; a feat that seemed impossible just hours ago! I could even eat some more chicken noodle soup (bringing my calories for the day up to about 212). Had the underlying cause of my sickness gone away, whether it be a virus, food-poisoning or the Flu? I don't really know, and I don't really care. All I know is that Ibuprofen is now being left everything in my Will. I may succumb to severe internal sickness any second now but thanks to Ibuprofen I won't be feeling any pain.
This whole experience got me thinking about superheroes (as most experiences do in my simple mind). If a high dosage of a simple over-the-counter drug can bring me back from the dead, why can't it turn a normal, healthy person into a superhero? Think about it, in the day of modern medicine, we don't need a radioactive spider, futuristic technology or exposure to a meteorite to become superheroes. We just need drugs!
If I were a half-way artistic man, I would totally pitch this idea to Marvel, DC or whatever other comic book companies exist. Here's the vision:
There's this guy who is dissatisfied with his life and all the crime on his streets.
So one day he decides to take the law into his own hands by becoming a masked vigilante! But instead of using any traditional weapons or acquiring superpowers, he using modern medicine to improve himself. When he needs super strength, he takes a steroid. When he needs super healing, he takes a pain reliever. When he needs super focus, he takes ritalin. And when he needs a super crazy X factor, he takes LSD. His name is: THE HUMAN PHARMACY.
I think this idea is golden, Internet. Unfortunately, I don't have the time, talent, or drive to make it happen. So I am bequeathing it to you, creative minds of the Interweb. Do the best you can with this idea. The royalties and copyright can be all yours. All I ask in return is that you comment my blog every now and then. So when the reaper does finally come for me, he will see I popular I was!
Now if you'd excuse me, I need to go eat some crackers.