The Twelve Days of Strife — Fighting the Flu.

2026-08-26

When a Microscopic Enemy Declares War.

One man. One flu. Twelve increasingly miserable days.

Day One: The Enemy Arrives.

It always starts innocently enough.

Perhaps you’re a little tired.

Perhaps your throat feels slightly strange.

Perhaps you tell yourself:

“I’m probably just tired.”

Then the flu kicks down the door.

Suddenly, your body has become a battlefield.

The enemy has arrived.

And it did not bring flowers.

Days Two to Four: Full-Scale Warfare.

The fever arrives.

The aches arrive.

The coughing begins.

Your nose declares independence.

Your bed becomes headquarters.

Your blanket becomes body armour.

And the tissue box?

The tissue box becomes your closest military ally.

At this point, you stop asking:

“When will I feel better?”

You start asking:

“How many tissues are left?”

Days Five to Seven: Surely It’s Nearly Over?

This is the dangerous optimism phase.

You wake up one morning and think:

“Hey! I feel slightly better!”

You get up.

You walk around.

You discover that you were wrong.

Back to bed.

The flu has apparently decided that hope is something it would like to personally destroy.

Days Eight to Ten: The Flu Refuses to Leave.

By now, you are beginning to take the whole thing personally.

You have rested.

You have slept.

You have consumed enough hot drinks to qualify as a human kettle.

You have gone through enough tissues to wonder whether someone should plant another tree.

And yet…

The cough remains.

The congestion remains.

The exhaustion remains.

The flu has stopped behaving like a visitor.

It has started behaving like a tenant who isn’t paying rent.

Day Eleven: The Sinuses Join the Fight.

Just when you think the battle might finally be ending, your sinuses enter the arena.

Blocked nose.

Pressure.

Mucus.

Post-nasal drip.

And that wonderful feeling of waking up wondering whether your head has been filled with concrete overnight.

At this stage, the question isn’t:

“Can I defeat the flu?”

The question becomes:

“Can I get through breakfast without needing another tissue?”

Day Twelve: Still Standing.

And here we are.

Twelve days later.

Still coughing.

Still sniffling.

Still tired.

Still wondering what microscopic criminal mastermind thought this was a good idea.

But still standing.

And sometimes that’s the victory.

Not feeling fantastic.

Not suddenly bouncing around like an Olympic athlete.

Just getting through another day.

One cup of something warm at a time.

The Twelve-Day Lesson.

The flu isn’t always a neat little three-day adventure.

Respiratory infections can leave symptoms such as coughing, congestion and fatigue hanging around after the initial illness has passed.

That doesn’t mean every prolonged cough is automatically serious.

But it does mean you should pay attention to your body.

If symptoms become severe, breathing becomes difficult, chest pain develops, fever persists or returns, or you’re getting worse instead of gradually improving, it’s time to stop playing battlefield commander and get proper medical advice.

There is nothing heroic about ignoring a serious symptom.

The Final Battle.

So here I am.

Twelve days into the war.

The enemy has occupied my nose.

The sinuses have opened a second front.

The lungs are complaining about the supply lines.

And the tissue manufacturers are probably sending me Christmas cards.

But I’m still here.

Still fighting.

Still laughing.

And absolutely refusing to let a microscopic blob of biological misery have the final word.

Flu: 12.

Otto: Still standing.

Battle: Not over yet.

This comic is a humorous personal reflection, not medical advice. Persistent, severe, or worsening respiratory symptoms deserve appropriate medical attention.

✍️ Othello Cody Verrocchio ChatGPT