I'm pretty reliably always either coming down with or recovering from a cold, a side effect of spending so much time on public transit and having an immune system that's more a series of suggestions. A few weeks ago I came down with something spectacularly virulent even for me, a lingering sort of something disgusting that has left me listless and just plain tired out. I decided that three weeks of a sore throat was at least one week too many, especially since it had migrated to my ear, and so today the doctor confirmed: I am full of grossness.
I think about how that happened, how a sore throat crept into places it wasn't supposed to be and turned into a thing that maybe also killed George Washington. All the ways that we can be broken.
The better news is that of all the outcomes from being hit by a drunk driver that are possible, my friend turned out with one of the luckier ones, with a broken pelvis and some time to be spent on crutches, but otherwise alive and intact. Still, I'm going to the woods this weekend, and with the way things have been going I think I'll be trying extra hard to avoid things like bears and the edges of cliffs. Just in case.