The sun shines through my windows too brightly this morning. I roll over and wave my hand toward the light. The rays dim, adjusting to a more appropriate intensity for my sleep-encrusted eyes. I shake my head to stop the buzzing in my brain. I don’t usually wake up to an alarm, but it’s Sunday, and nearly 7:00 a.m., which means I’m way too tired to be awake, and I need to turn on The Stream, so I don’t miss The Symptoms Forecast. I roll out of my bed too quickly, and my heart starts pounding. The room spins, and I have to take a minute to steady myself.
You’d think by now there would be some sort of cure for the thousands of chronic illnesses that plagued the people of the past, but you name it, we’re still suffering from it. No effective treatments, health insurance covers nothing, and doctors still love to diagnose everything as “anxiety” rather than actually listening to your concerns—but luckily, there have been some advancements in symptom tracking. There’s a new technology that generates individualized weekly symptom forecasts for the chronically ill. Which, admittedly, has helped but doesn’t change what I have to endure on a daily basis. What we have to endure. Now we just know when it’s coming. I’m not trying to be ungrateful; it’s just that this shit still sucks.
A biomedical engineering company, Flare Gen Solutions, developed the technology for the forecast. They can predict your upcoming symptoms for the week, Sunday through Monday, kind of like the weather forecast in the past (when the weather wasn’t as controllable). They integrated the technology into their BioBands, so all you have to do is tune into The Stream on Sundays at 7:00 a.m., sync your band to the broadcast, and you’ll get your individualized symptom forecast for just $99.99/week. Oh, and you have to give them 24/7 access to your live-time full-body biometric data—that’s it. I wave my hand in an upward motion at the wall, a screen appears, and the co-host of The Stream, Summer Merritt, fills the space with her cheery disposition and bouncing curls.
“Good morning, sleepy heads, and welcome to The Stream, home of The Symptoms Forecast! It’s time to rise and shine, take a deep breath, and get ready because knowing you all, this week’s gonna be a doozy,” she giggles before continuing. “Now, let’s turn it over to Ryo Bennet, with the forecasts!” Summer’s piercing trill fades out as Ryo pops into The Stream. He flashes a smile, his perfect white teeth sparkling like miniature suns.
“Hello, my spoonies,” he dramatically pauses, “and forkies,” he bursts out laughing, tears streaming down his tanned face. After a few minutes, he gets a hold of himself and continues, “Welcome to The Symptoms Forecast, where you usually find out how bad you’re going to feel for the week ahead—” Hope blooms in my chest; he said usually, has something changed?
“Well, today’s no different—” he continues, my stomach drops, “but stick around at the end of your forecast this morning for an exclusive first look at Flare Gen Solutions latest technology for chronic illness management. They’ve developed an exciting new feature for your BioBands that you don’t want to miss!”
An outline of a body slowly appears behind him. “All right, everyone, it’s time for the forecast. Sync your bands in 3, 2, 1…” Ryo steps to the side, and the body fills the space. The body always looks so perfect at the start of the forecast—plain, no blinking lights.
I squeeze the BioBand on my upper arm to sync to The Stream and my forecast. A scanner engulfs my body in light. It tingles but doesn’t hurt. The body on the screen slowly changes to look like me: the thighs fill out, the waist pinches in, blue-green eyes blink back at me, and my hairstyle of the day pops up (two brown buns sitting on top of my head). One by one, different colored dots appear on my screen body and light up in rainbow hues—each color representing a different day. Every dot represents a symptom that Flare Gen Solutions predicts I will feel sometime this week. I cringe. This week looks particularly bad, a flare week for sure. I sigh deeply, letting all the air out of my lungs and transfer the forecast data to my BioBand.
Ryo pops back into The Stream as if sensing my dread. “Okay, my utensil-loving friends, as promised, it’s time to check out the newest tech from Flare Gen Solutions, and spoiler alert, they have a special offer just for you!” A video pops up, filling the screen and covering Ryo. It starts playing, and a disembodied but energetic voice begins speaking over a video montage:
“Imagine a world where you are in control of your illness…where you get to decide what symptoms you feel at any given time. With Flare Gen Solutions’ newly developed BioBand add-on, the Symptom Shuffler, you get to decide how you feel inside! Feeling nauseous but want to settle your stomach? Shuffle that symptom and swap it for something else! Having shooting pains and just need some relief? Shuffle that symptom and continue your day with ease! Simply purchase and download our new software to your BioBand, and you’ll be in control of your symptoms wherever and whenever! Try it today for no risk or money down!”
The advertisement ends, and so has The Stream, and my Sunday symptoms officially begin as predicted. All that’s left on my screen is a flashing message asking if I want to add the Symptom Shuffler to my BioBand (they are offering 10 shuffles for free). There’s some small text under the offer that says: After the trial period, choose from one of our many packages to continue symptom shuffling! Packages start as low as $49.99/5 shuffles, but we recommend investing in a more premium package so that every day can be a shuffle day!
The countdown to accept the offer ticks down as pain pulses through my body. I technically can’t afford the Symptom Shuffler after the trial, but I’d do anything to feel better right now. I wave my hand to the right to accept the offer. Almost immediately, a small needle juts out of my band, jabs me in the arm, and disappears. Then, two white intersecting arrows appear on my BioBand. They glow softly, even in the light. I push the button hesitantly to shuffle my symptoms, not thinking it would actually work, but my shooting pains slowly start to subside. A gentle warmth washes over my body. I feel a relief I haven’t felt in years. It feels as if I’ve never been sick, like I—a wave of nausea floods my stomach. I press shuffle, a moment of relief. Migraine. Shuffle. Shortness of breath. Shuffle. Chest pain. Shuffle. Brain fog. Shuffle. Fatigue. Shuffle. Symptom. Shuffle. Symptom. Shuffle. Symptom. Shuffle. Symptom—I keep clicking the shuffle button, but my most recent symptom stays, and a joyful voice fills the air:
“Trial period ended, please choose from one of our packages to continue symptom shuffling!” My heart sinks. I didn’t mean to go through all of the shuffles already; I just haven’t felt good in such a long time, it was intoxicating. Now I feel numb. My hands and feet are tingling, and it feels like static is running through my veins. I’m so tired of feeling sick every day, and I can’t believe that they would develop something this life-changing and then monetize it. I feel defeated. Hot tears roll down my face, and the voice chimes in again, startling me:
“Trial period ended, please choose from one of our packages to continue symptom shuffling!” I look around, but I’m not sure where the voice is coming from; it starts again, “Trial period ended, please choose from one of our packages to continue symptom shuffling!” I press the shuffle button, hoping it will stop the voice, but it doesn’t do anything. “Trial period ended, please choose from one of our packages to continue symptom shuffling!”
I rip off my BioBand and throw it at the wall as hard as I can. “Trial period ended, please choose from one of our packages to continue,” I scream. Hoping someone can hear me—that someone understands.
Alex Pellerin (she/her) is a writer from New England. She writes poetry and fiction and is currently working on her first poetry collection. Her poetry often centers on grief, memories, living with chronic illness, and finding stories in the ordinary, while her fiction writing typically lives in the sci-fi/dystopian future realm. She is also an outdoor enthusiast, theatre lover, and a snail mailer who enjoys writing letters to family, friends, pen-pals, and strangers.
Instagram: @alexpellerin_