A Graphic Letter

Dear Sick,

I have a few words to share with you, and if it offends you to hear, I still won't apologise because I feel strongly about this and you deserve to hear it from the horse's mouth.

You were not a part of my life until very recently. Ever since that fateful day you have been relentless, cruel and inconsiderate beyond belief. I was entirely healthy before you disturbed my peace and turned my world upside down. You took away my comfort, my sleep and most importantly my voice, which I need more than anything right now as I am in "Beauty and the Beast"--a musical which, as can be expected, requires me to perform numerous vocal feats.

Perhaps I was asking for you to come, what with my burning the candle at both ends. I was stressed--about the musical, about school, about relationships--my entire life was a mess. I was sleep-deprived, over-exerted mentally and physically and turning to no one for help. Perhaps it was my own exploitation of self that invited you in to worsen my situation tenfold. Perhaps it was my own ignorance that didn't take the necessary precautions when I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I would have become sick in any case.

Regardless of why, the fact is that you are still present and appear to have no intention of leaving. You still plague my mornings with a nasal cavity so plugged I am forced to mouth-breathe, my days with painful coughs that rattle my insides, my evenings with the practical vomiting of phlegm the size and shape of slugs and my nights with endless restlessness. I have consumed more OTC drugs than food this week and quite frankly I'm tired of tasting like medicine all the time. I can't even sleep unless I down a dollop of Buckley's (which stings my raw throat, by the way) and a side of Gravol.

The way I was coughing the other night, I think if I was any younger I would have thought I was dying. Hunched over my bedroom garbage can, eyes watering with the pain and effort, gobs of slime slowly working their way up my esophagus with every hacking, torturous cough, my ears ringing with the great lengths my jaw went to to open wider than I thought possible. It was awful.

And you are to blame.

You did this to me, you are doing this to me, and it appears that you are going to continue doing this to me. Sick, you are heartless and tyrannic! How could you prey on someone so in need of her health? I curse you. I commission you to end this. You have compromised my dignity, stolen my instrument and condemned me to watery liquids. What more do you want from me?

You know more than you let on. Force me to endure this no longer. I have worked too long and too hard to lose my voice. Please, leave me forever and always, I beg of you. You can't make things any worse.

Desperately yours,

Callie.