Oh, you guys. I have a confession to make. I’ve been kinda sick lately- and for a longish time- and when you’re sick for a longish time without any crazy real announcement, people assume that a) you’re pregnant, b) you’re dying, or c) you’re pregnant and dying (which really brings in the ol’ meal train offers.)
I am not pregnant. I am not dying. I’ve actually- and fairly recently- been diagnosed with the West Nile virus. Yep. And since, when I attempted to parse out that little nugget of info to people, the grapevine grew even weirder and wilder, I’m gonna lay out some facts in the form of an adorable Q & A.
Because oh my word you guys, you’re even freaking ME out.
Isn’t West Nile fatal?
No. Well- not usually. To the best of my new and completely limited knowledge, there are varying degrees as to how hard this Mack truck can hit you. I’m lucky enough to have a decent immune system, so mine manifested as a three week, flu-like thing with a promised aches and fatigue for the next, oh- two weeks to six months, depending on which doctor is reading my charts. (Some people have West Nile show up as meningitis and encephalitis, and some people have zero symptoms at all. So yep, lucky immune system.)
How’d you get it?
I think I had a long incubation period, but probably at the very end of the summer when a stupid mosquito decided that I wasn’t getting enough Great Outdoors in my camping experience. THANKS, CAMPING.
So why, again, are you telling us all this?
Because I’ve been downplaying this diagnosis into a mere cold for some people (which doesn’t excuse the enormity of lameness West Nile encompasses and doesn’t allow for the serious leeway I’ve been asking of folks) but others have heard “West Nile” and immediately gone to “Ebola” in their thought train. No good. None at all. Especially during school pickup.
Are you contagious?
No! Good news! As it happens, I am not a mosquito. That’s pretty much the only way to be infected by this nasty, stupid illness. Of course, there was one record of a woman passing the virus to her unborn child but, as none of you are currently my fetus, I still think it’s safe to say we’re fine.
I don’t need to upend my work schedule to rush to your side and wheel you down by the seashore draped in a plaid blanket?
Nope. I legit just need a ton of rest and hydration. (And patience. Loads of patience.)
No meal train?
No need for a meal train, but I totally wouldn’t turn down a tasteful telethon if something of that sort ever comes up.
You can even use this photograph.
So you’re actually pretty good?
Oh God no. I’m a fairly large mess. This post took me four days to write and I considered smothering myself with my own pillow at least twice that many times. Thank goodness for the muscle fatigue. Seriously, I’ve got weak little T-Rex arms and that’s saved me from a bunch of trouble.
The takeaway seems to be, then, that West Nile is some sort of dinosaur disease.
Yes. Exactly.
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