Diagnosis: Death (With Some Laughter)

At semester's beginning, I impressed some audition person and was promptly cast in a play. An auspicious commencement for your protagonist. And so, I embarked on a journey leading to discoveries and truths of my character, and of myself. Following many rehearsals and battling many confusions regarding the purpose of this play, I finally was beginning to grasp the concepts of the script and the fundamentals of my character's rationale/persona. Then, on performance eve, it happened.
My throat was tender; my nose was mildly runny; and a slight feeling of death came over me. In the morning, the plague had struck in it's entirety. I awoke with my body feeling deader than most rocks. I diagnosed myself with dreadful death, but a normy (a normal person, probably like you) would diagnose my plague as a common cold. Nooooooooo! I had to perform! How could one properly perform with death-like illness? This would surely result in some major malfunction. Then, sudden-like, I was struck with an epiphany - drugs! I must procure drugs to alleviate my symptoms, therefore allowing for proper performance! I flung out of bed with new hope and manned the phone. I called twenty dorms (girl dorms, obviously. What man takes medicine? Unless of course, he's in a show). Some girls demonstrated concern and offered moral support; others were cold, bitter ladies, who were merciless to the sick and needy. Regardless, not a single soul had cold drugs! Madness! Does no one suffer sickness here!?
Terrible, unprepared people. Defeated, I retreated to my room, throwing on sweats and a sweater (inside-out, but who would care) as I entered into sick mode. I flopped on my bed, dreading my upcoming performance, a mere few hours away. Beat. TURNING POINT.
A voice downstairs beckons my presence. Fine. When the dizziness still had hold after the elevation change of walking down the stairs, I saw a blurred female. Angelic Jemica arrived, having heard rumors of the plague in our dorm. She offered six different medicinal options. Blessed day! I was saved. Immediately, I indulged in such (apparent) delicacies that cold drugs are at Redeemer. It tasted awful, but coated my throat with some euphoric feeling; healing, I must of been. But would my symptoms be alleviated enough for the play? And how was that play, by the way? Stay tuned.