The following is sourced from a conversation with Claire St. Peter, DC ’24. Quotes are edited for clarity and length.
“I was in Maine, at summer camp. We were on a tiny houseboat—this is real life, not the hallucination yet—sleeping on little cots. I hallucinated that I was dying of thirst, and the whole night I was trying to get to shore in a canoe to get water, but I just couldn’t. I woke up the next morning and I had a water bottle lying right next to me, and I was like ‘Bro, are you serious?’
Being stubborn, I didn’t tell anybody that I was feeling ill until two days later, when I was sitting out of swim time. A counselor was like, ‘You seem pretty sick; let me take your temperature.’ It was 105°.
I went to the hospital. Swine flu is the same test as COVID, where they stick the thing all the way up your nostril. The nurse, before she did it, said, ‘Now, if you sneeze during this test, the cotton swab will go up into your brain. So don’t sneeze.’ I feel like that could only serve to evoke a sneeze.
I chilled in isolation for a little while. That was pretty sick. I survived. Now I’ve had a flu originating from a pig.”