Spot Plays Hide and Seek

Dear blog readers,
 
This may be my last entry. My mother wishes to give me another injection, as the doctor ordered, and for a while I cried. I can appreciate giving blood because of Gattaca, but being injected with something? Heaven help me.
"I’m PMSing!" pretty much summed up my mood this morning. I would laugh at myself then break down in tears, and look up to see my computer had logged in.
"Oo! Hooray!" I would say, sitting up and typing my password. Then, after a few seconds, I would start to feel anxious, and a second later, remember why, and a half second later, start to scream about it. I don’t like injections anymore.
 
At any rate, see the name of my title? One of my favourite children’s books. The one where the Lion hides behind a maple leaf and says, "You can’t see me. My eyes are closed!" At any rate, I was arguing between Spot Goes to the Beach (as I had planned) and that, and I ended up with hiding.
 
You see. It is titled appropriately because after the half hour it took for me to get out of bed, I suddenly noticed a red spot on my hand.
"I knew I should have killed that mosquitoe while it was vulnerable," I growled, and noticed a spot next to it. And one after that. And another, and another, and (you guessed it), several more. My first thought was,
"Damn, that mosquitoe has been busy. My hand must have sweet blood." Then I noticed it trailed up my arm to my shoulder, and it was on my left arm, too. Then I said,
"W-T-F?"
 
Quickly showing Mum and stepping into the shower, I ripped off my clothes to inspect myself. Near every inch of me was covered in these wretched little spots, all across my torso, back, legs (but fortunately not groin) etc. I screamed. Flinging myself into the hot water, I scrubbed thoroughly until every millimeter of me had been touched with soap. Alas, all it did was make the spots more brilliant against the creamy white. I started to cry.
"I’m spotty!" I sobbed.
After a few of these, and one particularly loud one, Eugene called back,
"Are you all right?"
"Y-es," I wailed, my voice breaking with the stress.
 
My bottom line was, "I’m a freak." Skin rashes are one of the affects of glandular fever or mononucleosis, but I thought I’d dodged a bullet. Apparently, the sniper was just waiting until I had started celebrating my recovery. I was this close to eating McDonalds yesterday! Lord, whenever I’ve wanted to eat something, it’s been one of those damn McChicken burgers, but riiiight before I could? Someone (God?) thought they would redecorate.
 
"Hm… Spot here, spot there… Few more hundred spots everywhere! It is good."
 
WELL GEE! THANKS! My brother refuses to come within two metres of me, and upon washing his hand, screamed louder than I did. He withdrew from the sink, staring at his hand frantically, and I thought he must have burned himself. When I approached, he shrieked "Stay back!"
There was a tiny red mark on his hand, and he disregarded the possibility of a mosquitoe bite and instantly made the connection I was contagious and he’d been too easy going with touching me. He threatened to throw hot water on me (which he was using to make soup) to purge me of my skin, and resultantly, my spots. A not-so-good solution, now that I think about it, but fortunately I passed up the offer.
 
Again, I am grateful to say that if this is glandular fever, I will be immune from life, and will not need to spend the next few weeks shut up indoors. Goodbye social life, and should I not survive this injection, goodbye cruel, cruel world.
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One thought on “Spot Plays Hide and Seek

  1. Pat. says:

    Nah, you’ll be fine. I woke up with a rash too yesterday morning. Two gigantic scratch marks across my chest> I argued with my Dad that they were’nt just me clawing myself during the night, as the skin was completely smooth, and only appeared that way. It’s weird- You’d think I’d had a fight with a Kodiak or something.Cheers out.

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