Nothing sparks an appreciation for life like a near death experience … or the flu.

Usually, I don’t spend my time avoiding germs. They’re everywhere, what’s the point? I’m not one of those “don’t touch the bathroom door” or “carry Purell 24 hours a day’ kinds of people. I’m the “bet me a dollar, and I’ll hold the BART rails and then lick my hand” type of person. Germs don’t scare me; I’m indestructible.

Indestructible, that is, until this past week, when germs kicked my ass. It started simple: some sore throat and coughing. I thought I could fight it off with vitamins and rest; ’tis merely a flesh wound. The cold symptoms, however, developed into a flu that made me so weak that I had to nap before working up the energy to go to the kitchen.

Man, did I feel sorry for myself. I called my mom, pointless as it was, since all she did was feel sorry for me too, and tell me to make some soup. Easy for her to say.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, cases of influenza have been declining since March, but the cases of death due to flu or pneumonia were above the norm. I was surely dying, no doubt about it.

Finally, after days of misery and medicine, I started to feel better toward the end of the week, just in time for me to wake up Saturday with pink eye. Freakin’ pink eye! Are you serious? I couldn’t feel bad for myself at this point. It was just plain funny. Like germs found the hot spot and had a goddamn orgy! And after the flu, pink eye was practically a blessing.

Not only was I sick for the week, I was also incredibly bitter. Unless someone was making me food, giving me liquids and medicine and altogether pitying me, I hated their guts. No one knew my pain.

But as energy begins to once again pump through me, I’m a whole new woman. I love class. I love people. And boy, do I love food. I’ve eaten everything in front of me without guilt, to make up for my week of starvation. I’m pumped up on vitamins like they’re steroids and am drinking straight cranberry juice without its usual side of vodka.

As much as I hate to break up an orgy, those germs can’t touch me now. I’m back to being indestructible.

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Jen White can be reached at [email protected]