Like every other student here, I'm doing my best to prevent the spread of gastroenteritis. I try to get plenty of sleep, to wash my hands frequently, and to avoid people who are sneezing violently. I'll be honest — I don't want the intestinal flu. Indeed, it is my responsibility to get a healthy amount of sleep, and it is entirely within my hands to wash my hands (hands down!), but what worries me most are the violent sneezers out there. I'm virtually helpless.
If you or someone like you has gastroenteritis, please go see a doctor or someone like a doctor. And while you are intrepidly heading to McCosh, I would also advise that you place a large paper bag over your head to concentrate the gastroenteritis germs around your own cranium and not mine. Sure it may get hot and swampy under that bag, but you've already got gastroenteritis and I don't.
Above all else, don't bring your intestinal flu to class. Listen to your befouled intestines — they want to stay in bed and be nursed. Go ahead and nurse them. Don't go dragging them into the lecture hall with you to sit beside other, healthier intestines. That's just bad form. I had a class the other day where at least five people were spraying their gastroenteritis around the room, sneezing and sniffling. You would think that when you sniffle you are re-inhaling your intestinal flu, but actually some of it still leaks out.
Now as for the dining halls and eating clubs, do I even have to mention it? I asked for a side of mashed potatoes with my honey-baked chicken, not a side of stomach irritation and inflation. When I want that I'll drink Tabasco sauce, not your gastroenteritis.
Next time I see a person ha-choo, I'm going to go right up to them and say, "Stop spreading intestinal flu." Or perhaps such proximity would be dangerous, in which case I will purchase a mega-phone and shout the same demand across one of our campus's lawns.
It's time we all took a stand against gastroenteritis, rather than let it sap our nutrients and crinkle our skin. Hey gastroenteritis, I happen to like my nutrients and uncrinkly outer layer. It's time we talked to it, man to virus, and told it how much we hate its guts despite its love for ours. And what is more is that my mother really hates gastroenteritis because you shouldn't eat vegetables when you get it, and she likes it when I eat carrots.
Carrots aside, this is a war between man and beast. And by beast I mean gastroenteritis, that microscopic protein-shelled nuisance. Why even call yourself intestinal flu, you horrible disease? Are you intending to make us fear you less or let down our guard because we all got our flu shots? Well gastroenteritis be not proud — word has gotten out via email, and cool heads are speaking about you behind closed doors. Your day is done, your time is up. Intestines of the world unite!
They say that if you were to unroll your intestines it would reach all the way around the entire universe, twice over. It's time we start thinking about how great and long our intestines are rather than how swollen and painful they've become. It's time we quarantined the ill and sent this bothersome disease back where it came from. France! (Probably.) Right now it's all around us, on all sides. Well, let's have one less virus beside the 'Street.' One less germ under the 'Zoo.' One less flu over the 'Cuckoo's Nest.' Eric Bland is an English major from Richmond, Va. He can be reached at ebbland@princeton.edu.