I wrote this email to Grey.
I'm underwhelmed by your concern for my health. You'll be happy to know that the strep test results came back today. They were negative. However, that begs the question, why is my right tonsil roughly the size of Liechtenstein? My doctor is pretty sure that it isn't regular tonsillitis. It could be mono. But more likely, it's the plague.
She has quarantined me until further notice. I am allowed to take the subway because it's practically a biohazard zone anyway. And I can go to the Dominion on campus to get groceries because that place is full of rats. And Old Chinatown. But I can't go to suburbia or any other groceries stores or take the streetcar. She also informed me that, as a public health hazard, I am required to notify the authorities of anyone with whom I might have played tonsil hockey or otherwise exchanged saliva. I had to tell her about you. They are coming for you. I'm not sure where you are. You don't appear to be home from the cottage yet so likely Toronto Public Health has requisitioned the RCMP and several local military bases to storm random cottages in Gananoque looking for you. Or children that look like you who have raging fevers and enlarged necks.
If you need me, I'll be sitting here at my desk. Waiting for you to express some kind of concern. Perhaps you're just trying to prove a point. That I'm not actually your girlfriend and shouldn't be mistaken for anyone who might have such a privilege. Or maybe you're already dead from the plague. One can only hope.
Perhaps there was a little too much vitriol at the end there. Blame it on the throbbing mass trying to escape from my ear canal.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
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2 comments:
Oh, I don't think that was too vitriolic, under the circumstances. Of course, context is everything. In a different time and place, cursing someone by wishing him dead of the plague could have gotten you burned as a witch.
I never head of "tonsil hockey." Is that another example of Canadian cultural imperialism? First, they build a couple Tim Horton's and before you know it, we've got "adenoidal curling" on the television, eh?
Just take some pills, get some sleep and you'll feel better.
Never heard of tonsil hockey?? Hmmm... Anyway, turns out it isn't the plague. It's just an alien incubating under my earlobe. How cool is that?
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