Ammi Midstokke: Mysterious case of teenage flu cured by homework

Much to the relief of half our population, the New York Times published a recent article noting that the Man Flu is not real, and in fact, in one study women complained more about their symptoms than their male cohorts.

One might wonder if it was because they thought, for once, someone was listening.

Just as I was finishing up this painfully neutral bit of scientific journalism, one of my own kids came down with a case of the less gender-specific yet viral Can’t-Go-To-School Flu. Usually this season begins a bit later in the year when final essays and exams are due, thus compromising the teenager’s immunity to real-life consequences and bad grades.

At our house, it has a different manifestation. We have a child on each end of the get-it-done spectrum: One completes assignments as the teacher is issuing them, the other has a remarkable negotiation talent in convincing teachers to accept late work. When they get the “flu,” it’s for different reasons. One thinks I won’t notice the internet data usage, the other is still writing an emotional and compelling excuse.

What is most remarkable about this flu’s symptoms is that they begin before they begin. The disease has a kind of biological premonition component that typically starts at dinner the night before, when an otherwise healthy teenager announces, “I think I’m going to be sick tomorrow.” If they are savvy, a light cough or sniffle follows, but that could just be the hot sauce.

This act spares them the morning wake up, which can dramatically exacerbate the symptoms. A known and effective treatment for this illness is little-to-no door knocking or interruptions except in the case of tea and pastry deliveries. Should the teenager be well enough to be sitting at their desk, they are most certainly working on homework. Maybe we could drive to town and get them some macaroni and cheese or a giant bag of potato chips. Cough, sniffle.

This flu does not respond to typical treatment with ibuprofen or acetaminophen, but does respond to hot chocolate and lethargy. Notably, Mom Flus also respond well to hot chocolate and lethargy, if we were allowed to have any of those things.

Sometimes it can be hard to differentiate this flu from others, but usually an inquiry into actual symptoms helps. Reported symptoms are most often unique, never before associated with the flu, or belonging to a Wikipedia article on rare forms of jungle-borne disease. They report everything from “sort of tingly muscles,” to rashes that disappear upon exposure to daylight or parent-sight, to intermittent neurological symptoms like not being able to read on a paper page, but aiming a fake rifle on a screen just fine.

Those with severe infections may report lingering symptoms resembling a low-dose LSD trip like “colors are kind of bright.” Scientists have been unable to determine if this is the effect of excessive unscheduled screen time or something they gathered trying to catch up on an assigned reading of “Go Ask Alice.” (Remarkably, this book has not been banned by Idaho legislators in their attempt to ensure that Idaho students are educated primarily by the Farmer’s Almanac.)

Most interesting is that these teenagers never seem to recall having had a real flu before, nor do they appeal to any of those believable and well-recorded symptoms. This flu leaves a cautious parent wondering if they need to schlepp their kid to a tropical medicine expert or inform the CDC. Also unlike other forms of viral illness, this flu can have a scheduled resolution, usually announced at the dinner table as abruptly as its arrival and with a certain assured optimism about the disease’s course.

“I’ll be well enough to go to school tomorrow,” the infected individual will say. All symptoms tend to resolve simultaneously with the above exceptions.

While we have little evidence as to its method of transmission and no vaccine is available, implementing a no-screens-on-sick-days rule reduces infection rates by about 95%.

Ammi Midstokke can be contacted at ammim@spokesman.com.