Student Health Center Baffled by Non-Sexually-Transmitted Disease
This piece is from the April 1 issue, our April Fool’s Day edition of the newspaper: The Fun Star. It is intended as satire and not meant to be taken seriously. All information and quotes were made up.
Regan Campbell/ Fun Star Reporter
April 1, 2014
On Friday afternoon, 19-year-old Daniel Larson admitted himself to UAF’s health clinic complaining of a series of mysterious symptoms. He felt tired, lightheaded, and just a little “funky” in the back of his throat, like a little tickle, according to Larson. A sophomore at UAF eager to mention he’s a business major, Larson astonished the medical staff when he claimed he is a virgin.
“We’ve never seen anything like it,” says health center director Amelia Folke. “Our staff can spot a fungal candidiasis rash from a mile away, but we were really thrown by this.”
When admitted to the doctor’s office, Larson said the lights were dimmed and a hot white lamp was pointed at his face. “We administered the usual line of questioning: how long have you been sexually active, how many partners have you had, and do you suspect any of them were secretly no-class ladyboy whores? Fairly noninvasive,” Folke explains.
The situation turned in a way usually seen in paranoid Michael Crichton blockbusters when Larson complained of a new symptom: an aching discomfort generating cold sweat and a slight stammer as he answered the doctors’ questions.
“People have a natural inclination to lie about their medical history,” Folke, a Serbian-born former pediatrician claims, calling into question Larson’s unwillingness to come forward with any puss-spewing genital warts he might be hiding. “I see them come through here all the time. Stars in their eyes, as if all the world’s at the tips of their fingers once they complete the Operations Management course, but that’s just syphilis gnawing on the brain stem.”
Larson claims that the longer he stayed more and more symptoms began to emerge, such as intense nausea creeping up his esophagus. “I was starting to get really freaked,” he says. “I mean, I made out with a couple of girls freshman year, but it never really went anywhere. Even though I usually lead with the fact that I got an A- in Principals of Financial Accounting.”
Thumbing pamphlets on sexually transmitted infections and what to do in the event of a urethra that appears to be passing molten lava, Folke claims, “UAF is the closest thing you can find to a modern Sodom or Gomorrah. It’s a hotbed for the most wretched sexual perversions imaginable, a hive of bloodthirsty pubic lice and seasonal aromatic seepage. We’re well-equipped for handling chlamydia, gonorrhea of the throat, bite-skewed boners, and varieties of crotch rot straight out of a 16th Century French nymphomaniac’s nightmare.”
But in the matter of young future entrepreneur Daniel Larson, Folke admits she’s sure he’s hiding his sexual history and Caligula-esque hedonistic inclinations. She adamantly states that it’s far beyond outlying statistical possibility that he could have acquired a health problem in any other fashion. “This place is the slushy, fetid SeaWorld splash deck of vaginal discharges. You’re going to get wet just by hanging around. Soaked.” Warning that what may sound like fun to a college-age business major is actually a geyser of flesh-eating bloodborne disease, Folke insists she and her staff did all they could in Larson’s case, given his total refusal to cooperate.
“They sent me away with a handful of saltpeter and condoms,” Larson says. “I don’t really know what to do with any of this.”
When asked about any real intention of treating the symptoms Larson described, Folke, a patient, kind-eyed woman wearing elbow-length latex gloves, insists that it’s best not to think about it that way. “If he’s telling the truth, we’ve got a serious problem on our hands. It could be anything from cancer to adult onset diabetes, but if it’s communicable, things are about to get sticky, and not the kind of sticky we expect at the health center.”
Calmly and steadily leaning forward, as if gradually coming across a working hypothesis for the situation signaled by Larson’s impediments, Folke says, “It’s not unrealistic to expect a pandemic.”
In the meantime, Larson can only intermittently cough and wait to see what become of him while studying up on holistic bloodletting practices.