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The Cuban comedian Ulises Toirac recounted with harshness and irony the difficult physical experience he is going through after contracting the chikungunya virus.
In a post on Facebook, the artist described a painting of debilitating joint pain, fever, extreme exhaustion, and a general feeling of decay that leads him to sarcastically say that he no longer feels like he is 62 years old, but rather “135.”
In a text titled "Diary of a Chikungunya Sufferer," Toirac turns his experience of being ill into a narrative that blends dark humor with a vivid description of the symptoms.
From the very first lines, the comedian shares that he woke up "desperate to urinate" and that he tried to position himself "in seven different ways," but each attempt triggered “a thousand painful alerts” in his joints, until he finally managed to sit up in bed, feeling dizzy from the effort.
The seemingly simple act of going to the bathroom becomes a scene in "slow motion," with the ankles and knees "protesting" with every step and the bladder on the verge of bursting.
After managing to reach the toilet, he confesses that “cleaning the bathroom afterward was a nightmare,” highlighting that even the simplest tasks become an exhausting challenge.
Toirac also recounts what it means to make coffee while having chikungunya. He explains that, due to the weakness in his hands, he relied on his dog Lía, whom he has trained to firmly hold what he offers her, in order to unscrew the coffee maker.
Lighting the burner with a long-tube lighter, which has no gas but produces a spark, requires him to squeeze the trigger with both hands, a struggle that reminds him "of all the action movies and even my grandmother."
Still, he jokes that if the coffee had turned out bad, he would have "suicided," and he celebrates that at least it came out "spectacular."
The text shows how the virus completely disrupts daily routine: after drinking water and then coffee, he is overwhelmed by physical urgencies and ends up describing, in his characteristic style, that he returns to bed saying “I think I'm messed up because my wrists refuse to obey me.”
Each action—getting up, walking, holding objects—is influenced by the hands, ankles, knees, and wrists that resist, in a body where "every joint of the skeletal system declared its presence."
The comedian devotes a particularly graphic segment to trying to take a bath. He mentions that he heated water “just in case” and that the bath was “extremely instructive”: all his joints reminded him of the seventh-grade anatomy classes, and he felt that only by hiring a nurse could he truly feel clean.
He finishes almost celebrating that when he gets some "epic urges to pee," at least the toilet is nearby and he's not wearing his pajamas, because putting them on makes him think about wandering around the house naked to spare himself that torment.
Toirac also mentions exhaustion and fever. He insists that it is “nonsense” to suggest rest to someone with chikungunya, because one falls asleep “whether they want to or not, despite the pain.”
He confesses that he has decided not to take his temperature because lowering the thermometer—which he suspects is filled with "mercury in gravel"—would be like "plowing a field of dirt with bare hands."
The rest of the day, he says, he doesn't want to remember it or doesn't remember it, because it all becomes "a kind of nightmarish dream vision."
The closing of the "diary" encapsulates the tone of humor and devastation with which he confronts the illness. "I liked it when I was 62. Being 135 is a damn disgrace," he writes, condensing in a single sentence the sensation of sudden aging and physical punishment left by chikungunya.
His story, although laden with satire, clearly exposes the real impact of a virus that turns every daily gesture —getting up, showering, dressing, turning on a burner, or going to the bathroom— into a painful test of endurance.
This Thursday, upon confirming that he had contracted the illness, Toirac emphasized the importance of staying hydrated and explained that “chikungunya causes hyperviscosity of the fluids” and that “the difference between getting through it without dying or having a high risk of a heart attack depends on drinking at least three liters of water daily.”
He added that, for those who can, "the use of moisturizing salts is much, much, much better."
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