Surviving the Swine Flu—A Step By Step Guide

Two SparkLife writers (including Chelsea_Dagger) have swine flu! Here's poor Chelsea's account of how she contracted the most annoying, albeit trendiest, illness around. —SparkNotes editors

Step Negative Four—Welcome to the Jungle
Chronological Placement: A few days before the flu rocks you like a hurricane.
Be overtaken by an odd sense of foreboding, akin to the one you get when you hear a rumor that Ashlee Simpson will be starring in yet another television drama about a group of devastatingly attractive young-ish people who dress in hundred dollar bills and may or may not be serial killers masquerading as real-estate tycoons (or vice-versa).

Constantly clear your throat, and complain to your uncaring friends that your lungs are collapsing. To explain your condition, say wildly interesting things like: “…no, it’s definitely more scratchy…sort of like pine-coney-feeling, you know?” When all of your detailed whining falls upon unsympathetic ears, blame your phantom illness on the unsightly facial hair of your heartless amigos and eat a three pound bag of tortilla chips to soothe the “imaginary” searing pain developing in your chest cavity.

Step Zero—the Thera-Flu Blues
Chronological Placement: The drug-induced calm before the storm.
Desperately attempt to ward off any potential sickness, imagined or real, by chugging Ny-Quil, orange juice, and various flavors of turpentine. Eat handfuls of Vicks Vapo-Rub, and smooth some into your hair for added shine. Hire a witch doctor. Just do it. Don’t think you’re sick? Da Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt, pal.

Step One Point Five—Death Be Not Proud
Chronological Placement: The Eagle has landed.
Wake up. Immediately wish you hadn’t woken up. Dizzily wander out of your room wearing your goose-down comforter as a cape, and weakly ask your parents (note: they left for work two hours ago) to make you a chocolate milkshake. When they don’t respond, collapse to the floor and disintegrate into a sweaty puddle of despair and congestion. Stay down until the danger of drowning in your own drool becomes imminent. Then, make drool angels. They’re like snow angels, only much, much grosser.

Step Three—You Give Me Fever
Chronological Placement: Your own personal Armageddon.
Whilst covered in your own spit, you may want to consult a doctor and confirm that you do, in fact, have the Bubonic Plague, otherwise known as the Proverbial Sleeping Sickness, otherwise known as “the Bay of Pigs,” otherwise known as Swine Flu.

Once you find out that you are among the INFECTED, immediately text your best friend in the whole world. (Hint: You can easily identify this person by their ridiculously sweet nickname, so scroll down your Contacts list until you come across anyone called The Leech, Caddyshack, Scottamus J. Luth, or “Dan.”) Inform your bestie that you are very likely going to die and that you expect a grandiose funeral at which the dress code is “Highly Flammable Flannel Pants” and the members of Boyz II Men play “Motownphilly” on the bagpipes. As a pre-emptive maneuver, hire Danny DeVito to deliver your eulogy, and expressly forbid him to speak about the Tijuana Road Flare Incident of ’77. Remember, offense is the best defense. Or something.

Step Awesome—Shake Yo Money-Maker
Chronological Placement: Easy Street.
When the going gets tough, the tough devise ingenious ways to profit from their contagious disease. Turn your swine frown upside down by using your potentially fatal illness to attract the opposite sex. Impossible? Not if you’re clever, and morally bankrupt. First, rename your virus something adorable, like “Panda Flu” or “Footsie Pajamas.” Next, start working it into casual conversations and lay the innuendo on THICK. Try sure-fire winners like: “Hey cutie, are you sick? Would you like to be?” or maybe “Is it hot in here, or do I just have a raging, highly infectious fever?” In no time at all, you’ll have loads of studs lined up outside your quarantine tent, dying for the chance to take your temperature.

Did you/do you have swine flu? We want to hear all the gross details!

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