Unlike in childhood, illness in college proves hassle not holiday
You know how when you were little, getting sick was kind of like a holiday? People felt bad for you, made you cards and brought you presents. Your parents took on the role of your personal slaves by answering your every beck and call and showering your poor snot-dripping, germ-trodden, sniveling self with the utmost love and affection. You got to miss school and eat delicious chicken soup while chestnuts were practically roasting on a freakin’ open fire next to you.
Needless to say, those days are over. Now the common cold has taken on an apocalyptic significance, similar to that of most wars and biblical events. It will explode into your life and leave a wake of destruction in its path.
This might all sound a tad dramatic and bitter, but I can assure you it’s not. (I’m simply not a bitter or dramatic person. Who needs all those negative emotions in his or her life? Not me.)
Unfortunately though, I have been sick over the past three weeks. And even though I experience the same unpleasant dose of reality each year, I still never fail to be surprised by how much less fun it is to be sick now than it was as a kid.
There’s a notable difference in levels of pity.
Me: ‘I feel so sick and awful.’
My roommate: ‘So? I have ‘triple E!’ And can you please stand at least 10 feet away from me? I really can’t afford to get sick. I have ‘triple E!”
She always knows how to be there for me.
Then there’s the small matter of treatment. Walking into the health center dressed in a mink coat, three sweaters, ski pants and a turban did not cause a single receptionist to even blink an eye. When I finally met with the doctor, I informed her that this was my third visit. After explaining that I could no longer eat, sleep, breathe or feel, I was told not to worry, as these were common symptoms. She sent me on my way with a prescription for vitamins, a $300 bill and the following (slightly exaggerated) statement: ‘You seem to have a viral infection that just needs to run its course. This can take anywhere from several weeks to several months. If after two months you don’t die, come back and see us. We’d love to hear from you.’
None of that would bother me too much if I could just get my medication from some other source, but all those people who sell Adderall and Vicodin and other such happy pills have no idea what I’m talking about when I ask for antibiotics because I’m legitimately sick.
Me: ‘I’m looking for something that can help with sneezing, coughing, shaking, chills, fever, vomiting, loss of interest in life, etc.’
Resourceful other: ‘Um … do you mean, like, Valium?’
When you get sick in college, where the weather is cold and the professors might not always be as accommodating as you might like (‘What do you mean you couldn’t research the paper because you were in the emergency room? Does the hospital not have Internet access?’), you must face this challenge head-on. You must overcome this hurdle. You must do all you can to eventually get better. Because after all, do you know what happens to little boys and girls who can’t get over a cold?
They’re never heard from again. And their roommates probably don’t even notice. They have ‘triple E!’
Marina Charny is a senior English and textual studies and writing major. Her column appears every Thursday, and she can be reached at mcharny@syr.edu.
