I really pride myself on my ability to stay healthy when I’m on my regular schedule at home. I exercise every morning; I eat healthy 5-6 days out of the week, and I get plenty of sleep every night. But at a convention, all of that changes. I’m thrown onto an airplane, which is basically a giant test tube festering with germs and viruses from all over. You sit there while the germy air circulates for an hour or two – more than enough time for it to fight its way past your immune defenses.
On top of initially flying to the convention, there’s the PEOPLE. GenCon had a record-setting attendance of 49,000 people. That’s a CRAP TON of people for me (I don’t go to SDCC) and at least 10%, if not more, come to the con already sick. Add to that the handshakes, the handling of merchandise, doors, handles – it’s just a giant germ fest. God, I’m creeping myself out here.
But there I was, flying home on yet another germ-infested test tube in the sky. I was so proud of myself for working out every day of the convention, getting at least 5-6 hours of sleep each night, and eating healthy throughout the day. Sure, there were copious amounts of beer, but the point is I made the majority effort. Everyone around us was coughing their lungs out, but we felt fine other than general post-con exhaustion. Monday I even boasted about feeling so healthy and avoiding the con plague. I was a warrior! And then Tuesday came around … it’s been downhill ever since.
Now stuck in bed with a slight fever, headache, congestion and body aches, I’m pretty certain I’ve contracted the official bastard con crud. I’m just counting down until my doctor’s appointment for some strong drugs to eradicate this stuff.
So to those of you who came to the convention already sick, I leave with this …