I don’t want to freak anybody out, but I think I might have Ebola. No, I haven’t been to any West African countries in the last 10 days, but a man at Table 16 a couple of days ago seemed suspicious and I wonder if I caught it from him. Maybe I’m just jumping to conclusions, but I heard that a man here in New York City was taken to Mount Sinai Hospital on Sunday night with a high fever and a fucked up stomach and that they isolated his ass right quick in case it was Ebola. They are saying that it probably isn’t, but what if it is? And what if that man rode the subway and then coughed up a bunch of fucking Ebola spores all over the damn place and one of them landed on a subway pole and then someone else touched that pole and then that someone was the man who was sitting at Table 16 on Sunday?
The Man at Table 16 had a runny nose and a cough and his eyes looked all watery and shit. Yes, it may have been a cold, but it could have been Ebola and I don’t want to take any chances. This morning, I woke up feeling not quite myself so I Googled the symptoms of Ebola, and oh my God, I have like every single one:
- Fever: Okay, I don’t have that symptom, but still: pretty sure I have Ebola.
- Headache: Yes! I woke up this morning with a splitting headache. I mean it was pounding and it felt like my brain was trying to escape through my ear holes. I took two aspirin and drank a bunch of water, but my head still hurts and the room is spinning.
- Joint and muscle aches: Oh My God, yes! My shoulders are sore and so are my legs and my arms. True, I went to the gym yesterday for the first time in three weeks and took a Boot Camp class, but I’m pretty sure the soreness is due to the fact that I got the fucking Ebola from Table 16.
- Weakness: Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I was so weak this morning when I got up, I couldn’t get out of bed. I laid there until 11:20 and finally got up to go to the bathroom and then crawled right back to bed. Even now, it is taking every last bit of energy I have to type out this blog post, which could be my last one, thanks to Table 16.
- Diarrhea: Okay, this is very personal and I hate to discuss it, but yes, this too is a symptom I have. I can’t imagine it has anything to do with the burrito I had for dinner last night at 1:00 AM or the two cupcakes that I had after the burrito. Or the Mountain Dew. The only logical explanation is Ebola, of course.
- Vomiting: I seem to recall throwing up last night at the Hunters Point subway station on the 7 train. It seems like a dream sorta, but I’m pretty sure it happened on the way home from my show and after I went out for celebratory cocktails. I had many cocktails, mostly vodka ones, but I switched to margaritas at one point and then took a shot of something that a stranger bought for me. Now that I think about it, I for sure threw up last night and it most certainly was because I have Ebola.
- Stomach pains: My stomach is tied up in knots today. It’s sore from all the dry heaving after I threw up and continued to vomit out air. I can’t think of any other reason that my stomach would be in pain other than catching Ebola from that asshole at Table 16.
- Lack of appetite: I cannot even imagine eating anything at all today except Saltine Crackers and Ginger Ale. I have no appetite, whatsoever and the thought of putting food into my stomach makes the room start spinning again. Actually, what sounds kinda good is a cheeseburger from McDonald’s. Or Doritos maybe. Or chocolate pudding. But nothing else. I curse this Ebola!
After studying those symptoms, I think I can say it’s official: I have Ebola and I owe it all to the dick at Table 16. (He only left me a 10% tip, by the way.) More than likely, this is my last blog post ever because I’m pretty sure everyone who gets Ebola dies. If by chance, I wake up tomorrow and feel better I will know it is because of one of two things: either a miracle occurred that healed me from this horrible virus or I was just hungover as hell today. Only time will tell.