Monday, November 12, 2007
Daily Douchebag: human rhinovirus
DOB: ???
Occupation: cause 60% of common colds, increase severity of asthma exacerbations, laying the smackdown on the lower respiratory tract of infants and the elderly, tricking inept physicians into overprescribing antibiotics, and generally being an unsung badass in the world of virology
Hometown: N/A; everywhere
Current residence: my respiratory tract
Family: Picornaviridae
Genome: + sense single-stranded RNA
Baltimore classification: IV
Douchebaggery: So I've been sick all weekend, and not just take-some-DayQuil-and-go-about-my-business sick. I've been bedridden and coughing my lungs out, and I was so ill that I didn't even go watch football yesterday. When I can't even be troubled to go watch football, you know I'm really sick.
I actually doubt that I have a rhinovirus, given that my symptoms are entirely lower tract and rhinovirus--as the name implies--is usually more of a nose problem than a lung problem. However, there are some rhinos that can get low(er in the respiratory tract), and my PI (boss) likes the idea that I'm suffering from the very disease my graduate studies aim to vanquish. My nose is a little stuffy, but my biggest problem I'm having is that my chest is full of phlegmy nastiness. I feel like I have a venti Frappuccino's worth of snot percolating down in there, and I've gone through a bottle and a half of guaifenisin expectorant syrup in the last three days. I am going to the doctor today, because this over-the-counter trash just isn't cutting it, and I don't fancy the idea of getting pneumonia right in time for Thanksgiving and the Kells concert. Therefore, hopefully Columbia Health Services will give me a bottle of what some Houston rappers refer to as "Southern Lean" or "purple drank"--aka codeine and promethazine cough syrup--so that I can cough out this crap and get back to that suboptimally healthy lifestyle that I live. Chances are I won't be mixing it with Sprite and a Jolly Rancher as I understand the fellas from Cloverland are fond of doing, but if slizzin on the sizzurp is what it takes to get back to my old, normally breathing self, then so be it.
Whether or not I have rhinovirus remains to be seen, but last week when I was complaining to my PI about being "impaled upon my own sword" with regard to my illness, he suggested I isolate it. "Maybe you'll find a novel rhinovirus that is more lower tract-tropic than usual. (Another PI at Columbia who is an asshole and who we don't like in my lab) got a Science paper that way, and all he did was some PCR and sequencing. You can name it after yourself and become famous." My PI is always telling me that this or that is going to make me famous. I remind him that famous among nerds for science stuff and really famous are two entirely different things, and I have yet to become either, but whatever. And I couldn't name the virus after myself; it's customary to name viruses after the geographical locations where they emerged. So my virus would have to be called Sugar Hill, or something like that, if I wanted to stick with convention. In any event, though, I did cough up a bunch of sputum into a 50 mL conical tube and I'm going to infect some HeLa cells with it today. So keep an eye out for a hot first-author Science paper about my chest cold. I should be able to crank that bitch out before Christmas, because writing Science papers is totally second nature to me at this point. And by "second nature" I mean in theory I'm sure I could write an awesome one.
Labels: Daily Douchebag, epidemic geekery, grad school bullshit, science, viruses rule
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