Me: I’m ill
You: I’m just so ill.
Me: I thought it was only a cold, but…
You: I long for this to be a just cold.
Me: I have a razor blade in my throat.
You: Smashed glass in mine.
Me: One minute I’m freezing….
You: The next volcanically hot.
Me: My chest feels like it’s got a ten-tonne weight on it.
You: Someone has tipped my head back and poured cement up my nose.
Me: Can’t eat.
You: Can’t sleep.
Me: If I cough anymore, my head may come off.
You: I feel like my lungs might actually burst out of my mouth.
Me: I would be relieved if that happened. THEN maybe I could breathe.
You: I can’t taste anything.
Me: I can’t taste or SEE.
You: Or feel.
Me: What even is feeling? I have no sensations in my body except horror.
You: I am like Thérèse of Lisieux.
Me: I’m probably like her too (who is she?)
You: That canonised nun who died of tuberculosis. She said, “I would never have believed it was possible to suffer so much, never, never!”
Me: I’ve already said that today.
You: People who say they’ve got flu have never had flu.
Me: I would NEVER say I had flu if I just had a cold. That is insulting to flu.
You: Don’t even get me started on man flu.
Me: They see someone else sneeze and it’s like, ‘I HAVE MAN FLU – KILL ME.’
You: Imagine if those people ACTUALLY got ACTUAL flu.
Me: I mean, I am 97% dead and I am coping better than they would.
You: I’m, like, 103% dead.
Me: I can hardly hear you, I’m so dead.
You: Sorry, you’re going to have to repeat that. I got distracted by my temperature soaring.
Me: Why do my bones have to hurt?
You: My skin is agony. Seriously, don’t give me a sympathy hug, I might attack you out of self-defence.
Me: I long for that kind of physical strength.
You: Don’t get me wrong, I would die immediately afterwards.
Me: What are you taking for it?
You: Well, hot water and lemon isn’t going to cut it, that’s for sure.
Me: Nurofen is for rank amateurs.
You: Lemsip? Don’t make me laugh.
Me: I can’t laugh, I’m too ill.
You: I feel like I’m never going to laugh again.
Me: If I start to laugh, I will choke to death.
You: Choking to death would be a mercy. I feel like my body is going to ignite and go up like a human torch.
Me: At least you’d be warm.
