The Not-So-Super-Virus

Let’s call it the Bad-Enough-Virus. It’s not Ebola, SARS, or Avian Flu, but your doctor says it will kill you in an hour. Your head feels as if someone has just hammered a wedge between the plates of your skull, and every single joint in your body aches, including every knuckle on each of your fingers on both of your hands. And every time you swallow it feels like a bundle of 00# steel wool has just been yanked forcefully through your throat. Your temperature is 103 degrees Fahrenheit (about 39 and a half degrees Celsius), and your pajamas and bedding are soaked with perspiration. You really didn’t need the doctor to tell you you’re about to die; you can feel it coming.

This one’s easy: you’re just going to lay there and moan because you don’t have the strength to do anything else. Man, that sucks.