It’s been 10 days since I was last on a plane. I still have the remnants of a hacking cough, and my desk is littered with empty sheets of vacuum-packed pills claiming to be the remedy for sinus headaches, itchy, watery eyes, runny nose and a variety of other symptoms. None of them seemed to work against whatever the guy who coughed and sniffled in the seat three rows behind us gave me. My flu shot, my vitamins, my pocket-sized bottle of Purell were no protection from whatever he had. Stupid me: I had once again foolishly flown without wearing a hermetically sealed bubble suit equipped its own oxygen supply.

I think making people sick is part of my airline’s reward program. For every 3,000 miles they add a new way to compromise your immune system by stressing it to the limit. They start by telling you that the seat you’ve bought is so tiny and uncomfortable that they’re willing to change it to a better one for only $99. I thought that was just a scam and refused the deal. Big mistake.