Yesterday, I spent three hours waiting at the doctor’s office only to leave with no news. Not bad, not good, just.. nothing.

I had been taking antibiotics for a week with no result. They were prescribed for what we thought was strep throat. I told the doctor, “I’ve had strep four times in less than a year. The antibiotics usually work quicker than this.”

Actually, she corrected me, all of the swabs I’ve ever given [for strep] have come back negative. All of those prescriptions – the money, the turmoil I’ve put my body through while taking them – didn’t actually help the cause. It was probably just my body healing itself; essentially, the antibiotics did nothing.

I left the doctor in a bad mood. You mean there’s nothing you can do for me? Take ibuprofen for the pain and gargle with salt water? That is your solution.

So self-righteous. I got home and tried to focus on the positive things, which eventually worked. But ultimately, I was left with a scathing feeling of unfairness. Why me? Why am I the only 22 year old I know that can’t go without a cold after a night of drinking? Why can my best friend eat an entire pizza and feel fine and my bloat is the equivalent of a beached whale?

Luckily, I have come out of that mindset rather quickly and faced the facts. It doesn’t matter why I have the immune system of an 83 year old, I just.. do. And regardless of how much I try to pretend that isn’t true, it is.

I explained to the doctor that I felt worse a few days after starting the antibiotics, my theory for this being that I spent most of the week running around and being sick, but Sunday was my first day I could spend in bed. What was supposed to be a day of healing really just allowed the virus to take it’s toll on me.

Listen to your body: that’s what the doctor told me. Four easy words to say, but four words that forced me to be honest with myself. Do I really eat that well, or do I just eat well compared to my twenty year old college comrades? My sleeping habits could most definitely be improved. What else? My stress level is a big factor. Sometimes I think that’s something that can’t be controlled, but ultimately it is. It manifests itself out of tight deadlines and piles of overdue homework, two things that could be maintained if I was better at managing my time.

As much as I wish my body still functioned like it did a few years ago, it doesn’t. But the thing is, I know that. I am fully aware and in denial all at the same time. And I know exactly what I need to do to start living a better lifestyle. What gets in the way of that? Laziness.

Ah, that one will take some work, especially with the end of school being so near.

All in good time.