Germ Warfare

You can’t even imagine what my OCD manias go through while being sick—and having someone else sick besides me. It drives me insane. I secretly have to run to wash every single doorknob, every single thing I touch and wash my hands thoroughly. After washing my hands and drying them off, I head over to the antibacterial gel in my purse and pour a huge glob in the palm of my hand to make sure every single little critter is gone.

My mind races like a mental patient rocking back and forth in her little padded room. What if something on the carpet rises up and gets me even sicker? I haven’t washed the floors in a week now—I’m sure something’s brewing. Droplets! Droplets! Droplets in the sink! There must be a whole mess of little germy creatures roaming about---and I can’t even see them.

MUST REPLACE TOOTHBRUSH! If I can’t due to being that sick, I grab a cup and fill it up with Listerine, and soak it overnight. That seems to calm me down a tad. Then I have a wiseass come up to me, or even write in my comment section---“Ya know, if you’re too clean, that’ll get you sicker!” Yes, I have heard of that theory before, where if you use too much antibacterial stuff and stay way too clean, that you’re not strengthening your immune system. Great, just put me in the psyche ward now.

“Deb, you know—you should really drink the company’s tap water instead of the bottled water you always drink. That will strengthen your immune system and help fight off colds.” My dear friend Tamar (co-worker) told me once, while sitting in a meeting room full of people breathing their nastiness all over. First of all, the water tastes like raw sewage. God knows what leaked in their pipes. Did you ever go into a restaurant—and you taste their water---and it’s just God awful? What is that? I’m not even talking about the chlorine tasting water; I’m talking about that weird ‘taste like culo cagado’ type of water. It’s just nasty.

I didn’t get a wink of sleep at all last night. Madelene coughed up both her lungs in my face while I was trying to sleep. My eyes widened as the coughs began to create gale force winds. I knew I was doomed. That was it. I’m going down.

“Oh no! I’m wheezing!” I thought. This can’t be good. Maybe it’s just my nose. So I closed my nose and breathed through my mouth. Still wheezing. Bronchitis! With my asthma---I’ll be in the hospital which means only one thing—more germs.

Other thoughts lingered through my head like, "Is this the bird flu? Has it finally reached me? Will I infect the entire United States now? Will the blame of this epidemic be placed upon me? Oh the guilt! I'll have to consider suicide if this doesn't kill me first!"
I know I eat a lot of Chinese take out and tons of chicken--but I didn't think it would come down to this. Then again, here I go stereotyping again. Figures. Never mind Al-Qaida's threats---beware of coming in contact with me!

“Can you turn over and cough that way?” I asked Madelene. She started to sound like a wounded mule.
“I’m so sorry!” She begins to turn around. I then felt a very cold breeze on my face. I realize she has the window open. Okay---cold air is better when you’re infested with bacteria---but for the love of God—I don’t want to get pneumonia! I grabbed my pillow and an extra blanket and headed to the couch to watch “On Golden Pond” again—for the hundredth time. I know the damn movie by heart, and I have no clue why this movie fascinates me.

I start fidgeting. I then realized Madelene stopped coughing as soon as I walked out of the room. Nothing—just pure silence. What the? She waits till I’m gone to fall into a deep slumber? The entire night full of hacking up phlegm and germs in my general direction---and she waits until I leave the room to stop? I charged back into the room, and planted myself into our cozy pillow top bed. Ah, at last, I can sleep.


It was worse than the attack on Pearl Harbor. I didn’t expect it. Tons of germs flying in my face almost smothering me until I reached the brink of insanity.

“Why must you wait until I’m out of the room to sleep quietly??? I don’t get it! And you insist on coughing in my direction!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
Madelene says, all innocently. I honestly believe I woke her up by yelling. She was sleep coughing. Was it a subliminal message in her body telling me it no longer liked sleeping with me? I immediately threw the covers over my head and made that my little Hazmat-like protection suit. This cozy blanket has now become my shield of the germ warfare that was being held in my home.

In conclusion…Madelene went to the doctor’s this morning. She had the start of bronchitis. They gave her antibiotics. I didn’t go to the doctor’s yet—in fear that I may catch something worse sitting in their waiting room. I’ll let it ride out for now—but please pray for my well-being…not only physically…but mentally too.