All Health Breaks Loose

I glanced over my shoulder, and there he was, slinking, believing he was out of sight when he wasn’t. I didn’t know what he wanted or why he had chosen to follow me of all people. But there he was, tracking me all the way back to my apartment for the third time that month 

Stupid cat.

He was mangy, his fur knotted in places, missing in others. I could tell his life hadn’t been a stroll through a sunny meadow. I watched him for a while, fascinated by the way he moved with graceful precision. This was a beautiful creature.

My brain switched abruptly from admiration to caution. Rabies has a nearly 100% mortality rate once symptoms begin showing. Jeanna Giese, one of the only documented people to survive it, had to be put in a coma to reach recovery, a treatment that has not been since proved effective. I crossed the street. Stray, potentially rabid animals were not to be messed with. I picked up my pace, speed walking the rest of the way to my apartment.

I walked through the lobby and took the stairs up to my room, fitting the key in the keyhole then turning it. I was hit by the intense smell of cinnamon. My roommate Emi loved to light scented candles in the evenings.

Emi was sitting on the couch when I entered, scrolling on her phone. She sniffed, then put her phone down and said in a scratchy voice, “Hey, Claire, how was class?”

 Panic immediately coursed through me. It’s just a cold. She just has a cold. No. There’s no such thing as ‘just a cold’. You have a huge test next week. You’re going to fail the test because you’re sick then fail the class then get kicked out of college. It’s- Emi asked me a question. I have to respond. I can’t let her see the crazy. Right. “Class was fine. Kind of boring.”

“Yep, that’s how it goes.” She picked her phone back up. Her voice sounded awful. Her throat must have hurt so bad and her nose must have been so clogged. I was going to be miserable when I got that cold.

My heart suddenly began thudding in my chest. Rapid heart rate. That could be a sign of a heart attack. I stumbled into the bathroom, forcing myself to take three deep breaths. When my heart didn’t slow down significantly, I pulled out my phone, frantically searching up causes of sudden tachycardia on the internet. Luckily, I was rational enough to realize that I was probably experiencing a panic attack, though I barely convinced myself to believe that explanation. I closed the Internet and went to my ebook app, immersing myself in a fantasy world until I was calm enough to be presentable again. Then I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. Couldn’t have Emi knowing that anything was wrong. I didn’t want to be worried about or reported. I was fine. Everything was fine.

“Come here, you need to see this,” Emi said excitedly, beckoning me over to show me a meme. I approached her and glanced at it briefly, holding my breath to keep from inhaling germs. I forced out a giggle before looking right then left with just my eyes, checking for floaters or hallucinations and verifying that my eyes still moved like they were supposed to. Relief flooded through me when I didn't find anything out of the ordinary.

When I focused on what was in front of me again, I found Emi staring at me. “Why do you do that?”

“I dunno. Probably just a tic or something.” A tic? What if I have Tourette’s? I don’t have Tourette’s. Yes, you do. Yes, I do. No! Well, maybe not. Breathe. Just breathe.

My heart began racing again. Myocardial infarction, here I come.

Emi looked deeply concerned. “You okay?”

No, no, no. I’m dying and even if I survive I’m failing out of college. “Yep!”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m just tired. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

I thought of the cat as I was trying to fall asleep, always creeping up behind me, so beautiful but ultimately dangerous. A reminder of the mind I lived with. Then I contemplated whether or not euthanasia could be used on dementia patients until I drifted off.

My dreams hurled me back to the COVID-19 pandemic. I was a teenager again, huddled in my room, stricken with constant terror and no motivation to do anything. I awoke from the nightmare crying.

This episode during the pandemic was what inspired my parents to take me to the doctor to get checked out. The doctor had me try out a variety of medications and therapists. The therapists had different opinions about my condition, calling it hypochondria, health anxiety, depression, OCD, and a few other things. Whatever the label, though, I knew the truth. It all boiled down to one word: crazy.

You’ve lost your mind. Look at you. Absolutely out of it. They’ll take you to a psych ward now. Congratulations on not being able to keep it together.

I bent over in my bed, sobbing and trembling. The only person I could turn to for help right then was Emi, but I didn’t want her and her germs anywhere near me. This was a battle I would have to fight alone.

Unfortunately, my whimpering and weeping woke Emi, who quickly made her way to my side. “What’s wrong, Claire? Do you need anything?”

I tugged on my hair, trying to ground myself with the help of the pain. “I can’t explain. You’ll never understand!”

“Try me.” She reached out and put her bacteria-coated hand on my shoulder.

“I’m insane. There’s a cat in my mind,” I gasped. “See? You’ll never get it!”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, squeezing my shoulder. “Take a few deep breaths.” She leaned in for a hug, her infected breath too close to my face.

Everything inside of me seemed to explode. “You’re sick! I don’t want you anywhere near me! Go away!”

Emi pulled away immediately, shocked. I rocked back and forth, continuing to yank at my hair and sob. She hates you. You hurt her. How dare you? You suck. You can’t even keep your idiocy to yourself. I buried my head between my knees, hyperventilating.

“Would it… would it help if I put a mask on?”

I looked up, surprised that she had been willing to speak to me again. I nodded. Yes, it would help.

Emi put a mask on and washed her hands thoroughly while I struggled to pull myself together. I forced my breathing to return to normal, counting the seconds of every inhale and exhale. When Emi was finished, she approached cautiously, sitting on the foot of my bed, several feet away from me. “First of all, you’re right. I probably won’t be able to understand completely. But I can try. I want to try. Is that okay with you?”

I nodded.

She smiled. “Okay, cool. Secondly, you said you were insane. I’d like to disagree. ‘Insane’ is a crude word. What is sanity anyway? We all have different degrees of it. We’re all more sane in different areas than we are in others. So you’re not insane.”

“Thanks,” I said, wiping my eyes, wishing that I could believe her words.

“Now I have a question. What did you mean when you said you had a cat in your mind?”

“Well… there’s this cat that sometimes follows me on my walk home from class. He’s really pretty, a Siamese with golden fur and shining blue eyes. I like to watch him. But he also might attack me, and he might be rabid or a carrier of a different disease, so I stay as far away from him as possible. I cross the street when I see him.”

Emi nods encouragingly. I try my hardest not to cringe at the sound of her congested voice. “Yeah, I’ve seen that cat hanging around the science building before. My boyfriend comes up with different ridiculous names for it every time it crosses our path.” She paused. “That cat, he’s… in your head?”

“Kind of. It’s more that he is my mind. My brain’s great. It’s bright, works well enough most of the time, and it’s creative. But sometimes… sometimes it yells at me.” And just like that, everything spilled out. The hours spent on medical websites, the cruel voice inside my head, the fear, the compulsions, the disease information rattling around inside me, waiting for a chance to escape and make me panic.

After I was finished, Emi went to give me a hug, but pulled away before she did, recognizing that I still didn’t want her too near. “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve to go through that. It’s awesome that you can even function through all of it.” She hesitated, then smiled. “Next time the voice in your mind tries to attack you, tell her that I want her to shut up, okay? Tell her that I know more than her and you know more than her and we want her to be quiet.” 

I beamed and agreed. “Okay. Thanks, Emi.”

“Anytime.” She stumbled back to her own bed, clearly exhausted. I washed my hands and fell asleep soon after.

Things weren’t immediately going to get better. I knew that. But at least now instead of me against the bully, it was me and Emi and against the bully. Soon, she’d be even more outnumbered. I would be honest with the people I trusted and they would all rally behind me in my fight against her. Everything wasn’t fine. But one day, it was going to be.

On the way home from class the next week, I saw the real cat. The young stray Siamese. I watched him, again amazed by his grace. I tried to be glad for his company instead of terrified of it. You’re going to get rabies. You’re going to die because you think you’re being brave and you can’t stop admiring this ridiculous cat. You’re- Shut up. Emi says to shut up. I say to shut up. I can watch the cat if I want to. I can’t get rabies unless he bites me. So I watched him. He wasn’t going to come cuddle me or even rub up against my leg, and even if he tried to, I wasn’t going to let him. But this time when he got close, I didn’t cross the street.