Last Sunday before our screening of Frankenhooker I somehow managed to come down with one wicked fever. I ran home early feeling like I was about to collapse, and found out with shock that my temperature was at 104.2.
Today’s thursday, and the first day my brain feels complete again to be writing again, let alone thinking. Even with tylenol and motrin my temperature didn’t seem to want to dip below 102, and kept bouncing back up to 104.4…. 104.5.
A fever that high teeters on the edge- a few more tenths of a degree to 105 and it’s recommended you go to the hospital, and at 107 to 108 your brain starts to melt. Any higher than that and Elizabeth Pena comes over with all of your neighbors to pelt you with bags of ice.
The worst part about a fever that high is that you can literally do nothing. I couldn’t even concentrate on a movie or play a video game, for god’s sake, spending most of the time staring at the wall and hating my life. But fever dreams are a scary thing, man- I can now see how easy it is to go delirious and absolutely insane with this. On my worst night I sat up, sleepless, and every time I closed my eyes my mind would write stories at high speed, illustrated ones, right before my eyes. I’d open my eyes and my brain would stop zooming and whirring, but when I closed them it’d kick back into gear again. It’s terrifying not being able to control your own head, when you can literally feel your brain start to pump faster and overheat. It’s enough to make you take after Max Cohen from Pi and put a drill to your head.
Thankfully it broke yesterday, bringing me down to normal fever temperatures. It finally hit 100-101 and I felt like running outside and doing backflips up a mountain. Hah! You call that a fever? Downing gallons of gatorade and watching about five MST3K episodes in a row helped even more. Never mind the delicious, delicious codine that my doc prescribed.
But anyway, barring some possible bad news from blood work that’s coming my way from the doctor today (besides the inevitable bill) I’m back.