An Open Letter the the Swine Flu
Dear Swine Flu,
You think you’re so tough don’t you. You’ve got everyone in a panic- not taking the subway, wearing those nurse masks, staying home from school…it must be quite a thrill for you. But I’m not falling for it.
Two months ago I got the regular flu. It wasn’t the kind of thing where you have a cold but tell your boss its the flu so they’ll have more sympathy; this was the Influenza. I sweated and groaned on my couch for three days. I cursed the heavens and asked forgiveness. With my last ounce strength I cracked open my window and called for my mama. She never came, but when my fever broke I knew I was going to make it out alive.
When I peeled my pajamas off my scummy body I felt like I was the champion of the world. Influenza and I had a vicious cage match and I won. He had to crawl out of my apartment bloodied and bruised and searching for a weaker victim. I laughed like a villain as the flu crawled out my front door and into the hallway, hiding under the door of the nice Indian guy who lives across the hall.
I bet you didn’t count of that, did you Swine Flu? You didn’t count on people like me, who kicked your cousin’s ass and sent him packing. I travelled to hell and back with nary a sunburn. I’m not afraid of you just because you’ve got a fancy name and travelled here from Mexico. I’ve caught scarier things in Mexico than a damn flu.
So don’t count on me washing my hands or covering my mouth when I cough. Don’t expect me to rush to the doctor if my nose runs; I’ll wipe it on my sleeve and keep right on going. I might stay home from work a few days, but that’s unrelated to you (even if I invoke your name to do so). I hope you enjoy your reign of terror while it lasts, because humans are going to have the last laugh.
Sincerely,
Poor Lucky Me
