Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Monday, August 06, 2018

Well, that escalated quickly.

Spoiler alert: I thought I had HIV. Let me explain: two weeks ago today, I worked a ten-hour shift in a nasty ass discount clothing (well, mostly clothing; they sold other stuff) store. At one point, I noticed a red blotch on my thumb that I certainly don't remember having when I came into the store. I figured it came from a marker. I washed it off, but the stain didn't fully come off. Then (in a movie of unprecedented boldness) I tried removing it the natural way: licking it and wiping it off on something.

Not long after that, I saw a co-worker nursing a cut. Now, my mind goes to freaky places when I'm scared, so right then and there, I'm a mite nervous. I look up 'symptoms of HIV' on line and, disturbingly, effects occur within weeks of first contact, symptoms much like those of the flu.

Fatigue, malaise, night sweats, skin rash. Check, check, check and check. A nose like a broken faucet and a sore throat to complete the package.

Naturally, I'm getting super worried. I need an HIV test freaking yesterday.

Thankfully, I was able to get one done today. (BTW, I quizzed that same co-worker at today's shift and she told me that she was feeling healthy, so I'm ready to lighten up.) The result came back negative!

But, what about the symptoms? Fatigue...bad diet + no exercise = might do that to you. Malaise...That's every damn day for me. Night sweats...It is the summer. Skin rash...there must've been some bad detergent in one of my undershirts.

As to the dripping nose and sore throat? Just the Typhoid Marys at my job who think they're too good to cover their mouths when they cough.

Still, this should speak to my new lease on life; a determination to get a better job. One where people don't spread germs.

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