A mole on my neck was my body's first victim. I didn't think much of it....I've never been particularly fond of my moles. In fact, when I was younger I was glad that we weren't allowed to wear bikinis because I was so self-conscious of one particular mole right next to my belly button. It's not like it's abnormally shaped or hairy; it's just your average, run-of-the-mill brown splotch, but for whatever reason, I used to thank my lucky stars that belly shirts were no longer in style because of it. Anyway, I didn't mind when the mole on my neck disappeared forever. I still didn't mind when similar white circles had formed around four of my other moles and the process of erasing them from my skin had begun. I mean, they weren't doing anything to me. I wasn't suffering any funny side effects, so why should I care?
It was my parents who insisted that I see a dermatologist, anxiously expressing their concerns about cancer and gangrene all the way up until I was seated in the office of a friendly dermatologist with wide eyes and shiny pink lips and nails. I showed her my moles and answered her questions. Her diagnosis was quick and definitive: the moles were called halo moles, and there wasn't any problem with what they were doing. She explained that sometimes, when people have a really good immune system, their body just decides to attack and get rid of their moles. It's not a problem, really, and it is in no way related to cancer. She did say, however, that this happens to very few people, and the people who do get halo moles usually only get one. Sometimes a person will get two. I have five or six, and she said she had never seen or heard of anyone getting so many. She concluded that I must have a really hyperactive immune system. I was very pleased with this diagnosis.
And now we come to the point of this post. Why, if my immune system is so fantastic that it can take time out of its busy schedule to address such a minute cosmetic concern as my harmless little moles, can my body not fight a common cold?
Today I woke up at about 9:30 in the morning, which is fine, since I didn't have class until 12. Then I realized that I was coughing and snotting like an entire waiting room of a doctor's office and went back to sleep until about 3:30 this afternoon. It was a fitful sleep that I woke up from several times throughout the day, feeling disoriented, short of breath, and clammy. Hello? Why is getting rid of my moles a more pressing issue than this? I think my immune system does not actually have its priorities straight.
I think I should be better by tomorrow, at least better enough to go to school. I really hate being sick; I think it is a phenomenal waste of time, and you don't even look cute. There is one upside though that I just discovered: when I am sick, I turn into some sort of culinary genius. (Which is really too bad, because you probably shouldn't be handling other people's food when you're sick, since who wants your germs, anyway?) But today, I made a coddled egg without even realizing it. Yeah. Maybe I am disproportionately proud of this, but "coddled egg" just sounds so domestic to me.