I’ve been eating oranges for days now. Why you ask? Well my liver-bellied bilge rats, I think I have scurvy. I feel like I am on my death-bed and since I have numerous pirate traits – elite sword skills, rum-guzzler, yelling ‘Arghhhh you Scurvy dogs’ at my colleagues – it only seems fitting to die with a pirate disease. Oh wait, scrap that. I just googled Scurvy and it’s not nearly as mysterious and seductive as it sounds. Oozy spots, spongy gums, loss of teeth. Ok, I don’t have Scurvy.
But I probably do have Myxomatosis. It took my best friend’s rabbits life back in 1992, and I never told anyone but I kissed Floppy goodbye. Even after Mum said if I did, I would be infected and die too (just one of the touching moments we’ve had). Now years later, I can no longer outrun my fate. Oh. Only rabbits can carry the infection? Really? Weird.
Remember Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge? I know I’m not exactly a beautiful and seductive dancer called Satine from Paris but well… she did have a cough. And I have a cough. So odds are, I have consumption. What? Have I coughed any blood? Well no, but Satine was just an attention-seeking, glorified whore.
Black death perhaps? It is a respiratory disease. Christ, it also had a 100% mortality rate, things are looking gloomy. Cause? The Black Death was primarily spread through eating fleas and rats. I am so screwed. A medieval death would be a romantic way to die though. And when I finally pass away, my loyal and handsome lord will be overcome with grief and vow to never bed another lady.
My ignorant Doc: Alis, you’re not dying. You simply have the flu. Go home and rest. Drink lots of fluids (not Scotch) . And stop chain-smoking.
Alis: Bollocks! I am dying, I have this overwhelming sense of calm which tells me I am ready for death. Don’t be upset, I’m not scared.
My ignorant Doc: I’m not scared. You’re fine, now go home to bed.
Alis: Oh, so you’ve just given up all hope? I know death looms on my doorstep but you could at least pretend to want to help me.
My ignorant Doc: It’s not even a virus, you don’t need anything except water, rest and a hot cup of tea.
Alis: Call the priest for me, so I can have my final prayers.
My ignorant Doc: Seriously, get out my office.
Alis: No drugs?
My ignorant Doc: (Sigh) Here’s a script for antibiotics, and another one for Valium. Knock yourself out.