Alright, let’s talk about the elephant in the yoga studio: the relentless guilt-tripping from my fellow yogis. You see, one seriously weird thing about me is that when I catch the flu, it doesn’t just wave hello and leave politely after a few days. Oh no, it settles in like an unwanted houseguest, overstaying its welcome for a good two to three weeks—sometimes even up to a month! To some, this might sound like the start of a gripping medical drama, especially since a cough lasting more than two weeks is supposedly a red flag.

Yesterday, feeling marginally human again, we decided to brave the big city for groceries. With no yoga session scheduled, we left Hinigaran after 9 AM, heading to Bacolod. But Bacolod, in all its bustling glory, was like a symphony of sneezes and coughs. By the time we got back home, my flu symptoms were back with a vengeance, making me feel like I’d just lost a battle I didn’t even know I was fighting.

Now, my beloved yoginis, bless their healthy, well-breathing hearts, have been practically staging an intervention in our group chat, demanding that I see a pulmonologist. And I get it—they’re concerned, and I genuinely appreciate that they care. But the thought of spending hours in a doctor’s office while coughing my lungs out doesn’t exactly top my list of fun activities.

The final straw came when they grilled me so thoroughly, I felt like I was in a high-stakes courtroom drama. So, tomorrow, in an act of both self-preservation and to silence the yogic jury, I’m surrendering. I’ll be visiting Dr. Nunal at JGN Clinic right here in Hinigaran.

Stay tuned, folks. This could either be the start of my road to recovery or another chapter in my saga of avoiding medical establishments. Either way, the yoginis will have their peace of mind, and I might finally get some relief—or at least some new blog material!