When I was a child, my mother told me she never went to sleep without an ice pack on her wrist, an ice pick in her hand, a handkerchief wrapped around her neck.

She told me that in order to have her first sleep, she would first get a cold pack, put it in the oven, and leave it there.

I remember her telling me that for her, it was just another day at the office.

I was six years old, and it was a normal, normal day.

Then I got sick.

It was like an accident.

When I got the flu, I got an injection.

But I remember my mom telling me, “You’ve got to be careful with that one.”

It was the same thing with colds.

Her advice: don’t leave the room.

And when she said it, I just had a sudden realization that she was right.

The colds and flu were like the only things that ever made me feel like I was sick.

I had no control over them, and I had never really had to worry about the colds, either.

My parents had told me it was my fault, and the cold was something I was supposed to control.

When you get sick, it’s your responsibility to take care of yourself.

And I did.

For the next 10 years, I learned to manage my illness.

But when I did get sick and needed to go to the hospital, I couldn’t go home.

So I ended up at home with my mom.

And for the next few years, my mom would ask me, what do I need?

And I would answer, I need to take an ice block.

So we had this relationship.

I never had to answer the question, how do you manage the cold?

She knew it was time to go back to school and get a doctorate.

She knew I needed help with my anxiety, so she had me see a psychiatrist.

Then she was like, OK, you have to do something.

And that’s when I was diagnosed with a cold, because I had been avoiding it for so long.

My mom was just so concerned about me.

She wanted me to take the cold and get tested, because she was worried about me not having a cold.

But the cold never really went away.

It just became a different part of my life, like I had an infection and I needed to take antibiotics.

And she was so concerned that I might have a cold again, so I got tested.

And the doctor said, it looks like you have a C-section, and you need to have a chest x-ray.

And my mom said, “Well, I know this sounds crazy, but if you can’t do the chest x and I can’t give you a CT scan, what are you going to do?”

And so I went back to the doctor and said, well, I can do it.

I’ll do it the next time.

But he told me to get out of the house and take an extra step, because the CT scan would only show the inside of my chest.

And so when the CT was done, it showed my heart was beating very fast, my ribs were popping out, and my ribs weren’t as hard as they used to be.

And then he said, you know what?

It looks like a C. It’s a C, which means the heart is beating very quickly.

And he said it was clear that the virus is in my lungs.

But what I really needed was to get tested for a COVID-19 test, because this is what was causing the inflammation.

And they said, okay, we can do that, but we can’t just do it for a chest X-ray because it’s going to show your lungs, so we’re going to have to go into your blood.

And as soon as I was in there, I felt a big difference.

The CT scan was clear.

I felt like I could breathe.

And it felt like everything was okay.

But then I was seeing doctors all the time, and there was no help. I couldn