About a week ago, I wrote about how I backed out of donating blood, citing a recent illness and fearing I may have still been infected. This week, my fears were confirmed as I found myself ill once more (I'm not sure if it's something new, or if it's the old thing relapsing).
I really don't like being sick, mostly due to the assortment of problems that come with it. The various aches and pains, the decline in mental activity, the tiredness, the various attempts your body makes to purge itself of the infection, the headache of keeping track of what medicines you're taking to alleviate the symptoms, and making sure there isn't any overlap. Trying to figure out what to do with an old medicine bottle that still has some liquid medicine (but not nearly enough for a full dose) left in it (recycling services won't take it while there's still medicine in the bottle, and you're not supposed to dump medicine down the drain). It doesn't help that my appetite and sleep pattern have been disrupted severely.
The experience of being sick is a humbling one, I think. Despite all that we have achieved and done, humans can still be brought down by something one one-billionth our size. Admittedly, the fact that we now understand how diseases and medicine actually work helps keep the mortality rate down. You don't see an outbreak killing off a third of a continent's population these days.
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