Hello, Internet. Rican here, and today I want to talk about sickness. As you might have noticed, my voice sounds a bit different because I'm not feeling well. I felt terrible this morning. Thanks to a friend of mine who works in the medical field, I had some guidance when I started feeling off. You know, it's like when you're playing certain intense games and you get a sense that something bad is about to happen, like getting a headshot or being the first to get hit. It’s sort of a natural intuition. Before things got worse, I decided to take some preemptive action. I asked my friend what I should do because I was coughing, sneezing, and feeling awful.

My friend, who is a rather large fellow—let's just call him "Fat Dude"—told me, "Oh, it's just a minor sickness. You can get better by making some simple dietary adjustments. Eat clean food, drink more water, and avoid using the air conditioner or having fans blow on your head. I think you'll feel better in a few days."

I thought, "Okay, got it," and agreed with his advice.

The next day, I went to Costco and bought a bag of buffalo spicy chicken wings, mango-flavored ice cream, and a cup of soda. I devoured the whole bag of wings, even though I was coughing while eating. They were so scrumptious, I sucked my fingers clean because the sauce was delicious. Then, I took a huge bite of the mango ice cream—ouch, brain freeze! I drank half a cup of soda like a thirsty horse that hadn’t had water in two weeks. That sweet juice felt like nectar from heaven. After dinner, I went home and washed myself with cold water. Oh, what a heavenly experience! I played loud music and danced in the shower. Of course, I didn’t use a hair dryer—those are for, well, people less masculine. Instead, I let the air conditioner and fans blow my hair dry. That’s the manly way, the hardcore way, you know?

And today, I feel awful, like I’m dying. Why? My friend said it was just a minor sickness, so why do I feel so bad?

“God damn it, Rican. When I said eat clean food, the first thing that came to your mind was spicy chicken wings?” Fat Dude sounded angry.

“Hey, I did exactly what you told me to do,” I protested.

“No, you did the exact opposite of everything I said. Literally everything! You stupid...” Fat Dude unleashed a barrage of curse words at me.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. So, what should I do now?” I shrugged and gave him a nonchalant look.

“You need to go to the hospital, now,” Fat Dude suggested.

“That’s the best advice you can give? Useless,” I scoffed.

“If you weren't sick...” Fat Dude looked like he was about to explode, so I ran off.

I went to the hospital and spent about 7 US dollars. Healthcare in Taiwan is incredibly good. At the hospital, I met a lively grandma who looked almost 100 years old. I greeted her, “Hey, Grandma, how are you? Feeling better?” She replied, “No, I’m just here to waste the government’s money.”

“Don’t say that, Grandma, you’re great.” I couldn’t help but laugh; she was so humorous and dark.

“Whatever,” she smiled and walked away slowly.

The doctor called my name; I was the next patient. I walked into the diagnostic room and saw a man in a classic white coat, just like any doctor.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you, sir?” He spoke quickly and directly. I liked his style.

“I’m coughing, sneezing, and sometimes I feel cold,” I said, trying to match his pace.

“Sure, sure. Let me spray some medicine in your nose.” He took a long, thin tool, inserted it into my nose, and sprayed something. I felt much better immediately, though the process wasn’t pleasant.

“Thanks, doctor,” I said appreciatively.

“Now, let's check your lungs.” He placed the stethoscope on my chest near my left nipple. “Cough,” he instructed. I coughed. He moved the stethoscope to my right nipple and said, “Now cough again.” I coughed.

“Sounds like your lungs are fine. Go get some medicine and be on your way,” the doctor smiled and spoke politely.

I hit the limitation of the Episode description.