When I recently heard my 12-year-old brother launch a squishy, viscous sneeze across the kitchen, I knew it was only a matter of time. It doesn’t matter how often I wash my hands, or if I chemically bathe my fingers with Purell before eating lunch. Unlike the Coughing Guy sitting behind me during a lecture, there’s no escaping my younger brothers’ germs. They’re right across the kitchen table. They’re in the bathroom, surrounding my exposed tooth brush.
My younger brothers are the weak, germy link in my family’s immune system.
Now I’m on the brink of sickness. I’m just one ‘staying-up-the-whole-night-to-finish-that-stupid-chemistry-lab-report’ away from being full-blown sick. And in university, I don’t get to lie down in bed and read all day. I still have to attend classes.
In university, being semi-sick isn’t cause for celebration.