Stop Giving Me Hydration Tips, I Have Rabies

September 13, 2018 by
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I know you all mean well. I’m touched, really, by your concern for my well-being and selfless dedication to providing helpful advice. To many of you, it may seem to be very good advice, maybe even of dire importance. My skin is yellow and taut but also swollen around my joints. I haven’t secreted a drop of sweat in days, yet I drool sloppily and incessantly.

But please, please stop giving me hydration tips. Just the thought of drinking a cool sip of water causes my throat to involuntarily burn and spasm. My larynx tenses up to the point where it becomes difficult to breathe. I’m not thirsty. I am never thirsty. Please just stop talking to me about water. Back off for a second. You have no idea the pain you are causing me. LEAVE. ME. ALONE. RIGHT. NOW. I. CAN’T. THINK. STRAIGHT.

Oh, god. Sorry. I’m pretty irritable as of late. Didn’t mean to lash out like that. I definitely crossed a line when I attempted to take a bite out of your soft, unprotected flesh. I was just overtaken for a moment by visions of plunging my teeth into your pulsing muscle. The intimacy of my saliva mixing with your blood. That is definitely not acceptable behavior, I understand that now. I am so sorry.

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Oh, god, the drooling is getting worse. This is so embarrassing.

Let’s back up for a moment and try to sort out how I got to this point. It’s increasingly hard to concentrate. Have you ever accidentally left a can of soda in the freezer only to find later that the can had burst? My skull feels like that can, and my brain is like a block of ice.

There was a field, I think. Tall grass. I was chasing a raccoon or an armadillo or something. A koala? Was I going to eat them? Maybe it was a graveyard. Was I trying to become a vampire? That sort of makes sense. Maybe there was a bat. Was it all of them at once? Some sort of batcooaladillo hybrid? All of these seem plausible to me currently.

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I think I had my hand in a hole in the ground for some reason. Had I dropped something? Maybe while I was hunting for food? It seems like the days blend together so fuzzily now, and it’s hard to separate what I did when. The important part was the itching. I remember the itching, and it was important. Here, this leathery necrotic wound in my arm. God, that looks bad, doesn’t it? I feel like a doctor should look at it, but I’m terrified the doctor will try to wash it with water. Or make me drink water. NO. FLUIDS.

Images: CDC, Pixabay, Pixabay

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