Bloody fucking whooping cough... I finished off a ten-day course of antibiotics Monday. The bacteria that caused this is quite dead and gone, so I am not contagious, and technically I am not so much "sick" at this point as "injured." Random cells in my trachea and principal bronchi have been killed. I imagine my throat looks like a piece of gribbled wood at this point and I've got to heal from that. In the mean time I get to continue to have coughing fits that leave me on the verge of blacking out or coughing up my lunch, followed by what feels like sucking air through a cocktail straw for a breath or three until my throat unclenches. In between these I actually feel fine, sometimes for hours, then I'll turn my head the wrong way, lean too far forward or back, get a whiff of dust, or some such other minor thing and off we go again. I can't lie down without coughing, so I've been sleeping sitting up on the chaise longue for a month now, and that is getting old fast. I missed my mom's memorial. I missed Hallowe'en (and the money I count on from working Hallowe'en parties). I think the next time someone goes on about the evils of vaccines I will punch them in the neck, and then continue punching them in the neck, chest or stomach every couple hours for six to twelve weeks.

Forbes: Anti-Vaccine Movement Causes The Worst Whooping Cough Epidemic In 70 Years