Allergic to Change

Another big life change, another bad cold.

I started feeling hoarse at the end of day two of the new job as I was scrounging looking for just one more source for my first story. Breathing heavy, pounding the keyboards while the clock ticked away, I knew this scratchy throat wasn't going to end well.

A week later, it hasn't.

I don't quite understand why every new situation I put myself in, a job, an apartment, whatever, eventually results in me curled up in bed hugging a box of tissues, or worse. It started with every September after starting school, with colds mixing with a nasty reaction to ragweed to make for a miserable first few weeks in class.

When I got to college, the annual fall cold turned into a September and January phenomenon. There I always assumed it had to do with the barracks-style living situation, sharing utensils and bathing facilities. The germaphobe that I was, I would clean and Purel to my little heart's desire to no avail. It totally ruined the usual first weekend of school revelry.

It wasn't until I entered the working world that it came to me that my occasional illnesses were more than just new people and their diseases. A few weeks after starting at the BBJ, I was just cranking -- long hours of constant reading, reporting and writing mixed with a spartan apartment and severely budget-conscious diet. (In fact, I remember my editor making fun of me sitting at my desk to a lunch of tuna fish and crackers with a Diet Coke.) Add in a long-distance relationship, it was a trying beginning to adulthood.

A few weeks later, I came down with a vicious cold. But unlike school where I could sleep in late or take long afternoon naps, there was nothing to do but drag on with this illness alone and under pressure to perform. So, miserably, I did.

Flash forward to today, or to be specific, last night, when after nearly a week of sneezing and coughing I came down with a gastrointestinal attack of epic proportion. I went back and forth all night from the bedroom to the bathroom to the couch trying to find a comfortable position and a spot to ponder my options for the morning. Would it look bad if I called in sick? Would it be a sign of weakness?

By 7am I didn't care about appearances or pride. I hadn't slept and would be in no position to be chasing down people who don't have a clue who I to talk about topics I don't yet fully understand. I also still felt wicked sick. So I succumbed to the stress and called in.

I guess the real question is whether its possible to avoid getting sick by reducing stress or whether it's just my body protesting change. I can't avoid change, so I guess the best option is to pound the vitamin C beforehand.