Dear Mono: A Love Letter

Dear Mono,

I can’t say exactly when it was that we met, but I know my life has been changed since you first set eyes on my lymphocytes. Oh, how my immune system swooned! It started with a tickle on the tonsils. It was like I could feel your affection running through my veins, softly nuzzling my lymph nodes, nasal cavity, throat, and, my personal favorite: my ears. There’s nothing like attention to the ears – if only everyone realized how tender they were! But you knew. Indeed, you set in on my ears during my post-Christmas flight to Ontario. Slowly, as the plane gained altitude, I could hear less and less. Then suddenly I’d yawn, and pop! You were gone. Those terrible moments when I thought you had abandoned me – let us not speak of it! For you were sure to return. When you did, I felt the pressure build and when I landed, I had naught but ears for you. I could not hear anyone else, probably just as you had planned it. I love a virus that knows how to get one’s attention.

That night your affection grew, and suddenly you were ever present in my head – my skull, my throat, my ears, tonsils, nose, and eyes!

Since then, we have spent every waking hour with each other, and I would have it no other way. I can barely sleep with you around, constantly tossing and turning. You don’t even mind me drooling when my inability to breathe has my mouth hanging open.

At first the doctors thought you were strep – I silently laughed to myself as they prescribed me antibiotics, knowing that nothing would break us apart. For the sake of appearances I took the drugs and continued to take Advil to make them think I was suffering. But really, I was wrapped in your sweaty embrace and had no desire to break away.

After four days together I completely lost my appetite. My desire to consume anything besides your affection was gone. I even stopped taking care of myself – brushing my teeth seemed like an agony, washing my face was pointless. I already had your love and needed no other. We watched four movies together and two entire seasons of Weeds, we read two books. The joys of isolation!

This morning I even found breathing difficult and I knew I was doomed under your passionate sway. My mother demanded I return to the doctor and I obligingly agreed. Every time I swallowed I thought of you, envisioning you as a tiny man in my throat with two swords. At each swallow, you thrashed about wildly on my tonsils, and you have even begun attacking my uvula. Oh how I wept at your fiery love!

The doctor saw me this morning and immediately upon hearing my voice he declared what you and I always knew was true: I have mono. He said that he could tell by my “potato voice.” I found it very rude, and completely understood why you, my dear virus, have kept me away from society. All people do is degrade others. Then the doctor told me that you and I had ten days together. Ten! How short, and yet I know that under your spell it will feel like an age has passed before you and I separate.  I was also prescribed a narcotic, as if I didn’t enjoy the cutting edge of your embrace. I took the doctor’s slip to the pharmacy, tossing it at the counter as if I was offended by society’s disdain towards you.

So now here we are at day six. I’ve taken the narcotic, yet I can still feel you clawing at me like an animal. It feels so good to be so desired. Though we only have four to five days left together, I hope that we can make the best of them. I bought us an orange slurpee that we can share, as well as Gatorade, Arnold Palmers, and some popsicles. Though I told the doctor I needed nothing but your love, he demanded that if I did not drink I would be admitted to the hospital and put on an IV. The nerve!

I know you understand. I hope this letter has made you realize what a great impact you’ve had on me this past week, and yet for another week to come! We will make it a week to remember.

Fondly yours,
Ainsley