Week Five
Coxsackie
Leave it to a man who creates running routes and flies his drone in the shapes of penises to get some disease called "Coxsackie."
But wait, Adam, isn't Coxsackie a virus that only children get? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. In fact, when I brought my daughter to the pediatrician to get HER diagnosed with Coxsackie, Dr. "I Must Have Skipped Virology Day in Med School" said there was "no way" I would get it. She said, "Adults don't get Coxsackie." In other words, I could take my diseased daughter back home, and play with her to my heart's content because my white blood cells have me covered.
Well, my white blood cells can eat a bag of micropenises.
Coxsackie - also known as hand, foot, and mouth disease, but let's be honest here - "coxsackie" is a far more funny term - is a virus that children between the ages of birth and three get. And wouldn't you know it, my 15 month old daughter got it. Great. She should get it. She's the target demographic for it. She's literally an ideal consumer of the Coxsackie virus. But for an adult of 38 - I shouldn't even be on the same page as the Venn Diagram of "people who will get Coxsackie."
So, let's talk about how you get Coxsackie, because it's fucking disgusting. At some point last week, a fleck of fecal dust jumped out of my daughter's asshole, and ninja-kicked its way onto my tongue. Yep, I basically and unintentionally ate a piece of my daughter's shit which carried the virus. It then spread like bad acid at a hippy concert through my body.
Then, this goddamn disease starts firing warning shots at me. Sore throat. Fever. A blister on my lip that looks like herpes. (It's not herpes) It's when red dots start showing up all over my body that I realize something isn't right. When Malin got Coxsackie, she got a few blisters on her face, hands, and legs. Gross, but manageable. After all, the disease is also known as "Hand, Food, and Mouth Disease" so it's staying true to its name.
But then, for the love of fuck, it decided to go rogue. I've got blisters on my hands, feet, and face. I've got them in my mouth, on my tongue, and soft palate. They're on my ear lobes. I have them on my back and wrist. I have them in my nostrils. I have them underneath my fingernails.
What. The. Absolute. Fuck.
Because they're on my feet, each step I take feels like I'm walking on glass. Because my fingers are covered, I hurts too much to put my socks on. In fact, my eyes watered when I pressed the button to release the seatbelt in my car yesterday.
And you'd think this would be enough. How much more can a man take. Well, I've got news for you. These red blisters all over my body? Yeah, the only way they go away is by pussing and scabbing over. So I'm about a day away from having thousands of weeping sores all over my body which will make me look like a nacho cheese fountain at a shitty wedding.
At this point, it's time for drastic actions. I love my daughter. I'm crazy about her. She's kind, she's smart, and she's beautiful. But she is more diseased than my computer after I "discovered" that Russian monkey porn site. So, for my own health, it's time to let her go. The keys are in the ignition. No questions asked. She's all yours.
