It’s that time of the year again—the leaves are crunching, the third round of exams are underway and your immune system is in overdrive. Whether it’s seasonal sniffles or post-Halloweekend frat flu that sweeps through Case Western Reserve University every November, the library is sure to become a symphony of sniffles, coughs and nose blowing. At this point in time, attending class feels less like an academic pursuit and more like a biohazard exposure. Honestly, skipping might be the only way to stay safe. 

Of course, there are right and wrong ways to survive this cold season. 

For starters, alcohol does not equal medicine. Contrary to popular belief, binge drinking does NOT kill all of the germs. Alcohol is a powerful antiseptic, particularly good at disinfecting kitchen and bathroom surfaces and less good at disinfecting your intestinal epithelium. Having a hangover is bad. Having a hangover AND a 104-degree fever is very bad.

Simply being in the vicinity of the infected is its own form of torture. You’re healthy, and you are determined to stay that way. However, you can practically feel germs creeping towards you from the random guy who sat next to you in class who won’t stop blowing his nose (with a nasal strip still on) into his shirt and coughing WITHOUT covering his germ-infested mouth. At times like these, it’s hard to not turn around and say “Hey, maybe stop breathing on me until you’re done incubating the next pandemic,” but apparently that’s “not appropriate” or whatever. Unfortunately, everyone has a right to breathe, even if their breathing is a nuisance to the rest of the world. 

No matter what you do, the pathogen has a way of finding you. Say, for example (completely hypothetical and definitely not taken from real life whatsoever), the person behind you sneezes directly into the back of your hair, baptizing you in the holy water of infection. For a second you might briefly contemplate reporting them to the CDC before remembering that it barely exists anymore. You wipe your hair with a sleeve, email your PI that you probably won’t be in the lab next week and accept your doomed fate. 

It starts innocently enough: a tickle in your throat, maybe a sneeze or two. You tell yourself it’s just dust, maybe even from the heaters turning on. Fast forward three days, and you’re Googling “can you overdose on DayQuill” at 3 a.m. cocooned in a fortress of blankets and tissues. You text your friends “I might be dying,” but you already know the truth: you’ve been struck down by the campus plague, and no amount of Emergen-C will save you now. 

For those of us who fall prey to contagion, there are simple ways to take care of oneself without having to visit University Health Services, such as good rest and proper nourishment. Unfortunately, as a student at CWRU the odds of actually achieving these are exceptionally low though … so it might be best to just self-isolate and not leave your room until finals. 

So, dearest sick students on campus, please have mercy on the rest of us and heed the warnings plastered on University Health Services posters across campus: If you think you have the flu, STOP. Don’t go to class.