Let's Talk About Phlegm, Baby!

I used to always wonder why very elderly people constantly talk about their own (and others') health problems. It always seemed so...morbid. I remember visiting hubby's great-great aunt in a nursing home and nodding my head sympathetically as she recounted her recent bowel issues. Secretly I was aghast that we were speaking about bowels out loud (I have since lost my reservations in that area). Of course, when we were done discussing the ins and outs (literally) of her own troubles, we moved on to which of her friends had recently died and/or would die soon. Not topics a 20-something could really wrap her brain around. Oh, what a silly goose I was!

But, you see, having Pneumonia has changed me. (Oh, I didn't mention that little sweetheart? Well, let's talk about it, shall we?) I now find myself bringing up subjects of great interest to me, like sputum and diarrhea. I like to tell anyone who'll listen about the amount of phlegm I contend with on a daily basis, and exactly what the antibiotics are doing to my digestive tract. (Not a pretty sight, that.) I never fail to comment about the fact that simply walking up the stairs winds me, or that my ribs ache like a mother.

Oh, I try to control myself, I really do. Whenever I begin a monologue about how utterly painful it is to cough, I stop myself and ask, "is this the first time I've mentioned this particular problem to this particular person? Or is this the fifth time I've brought it up in the last hour?" Usually it's the latter. I'm sure many of you are nodding your heads right now, recounting the last time you spoke with me and which of my symptoms I made you more aware of than you cared to know.

Heck, this whole post was just an excuse to talk more about how stinkin' sick I am. But y'all don't mind, right? You like hearing me describe what my lungs sound like when I attempt to breathe in deeply (I sound like an un-oiled machine). You're dying to know that I've been told not to jog-- or walk-- for several weeks. (No problem there-- I can barely make it up my driveway without having to catch my breath.) You want to hear, just one more time, about how much my ribs hurt (like a mother!). I know you, people. These are the things your inquiring minds want to know! Right? Right??

On second thought.... Maybe I should just drag myself on over to a nursing home and have a good ol' fashioned pow-wow with the residents there. We can talk all day about every ache and pain we have. And not only that, we'll love every single minute of it! Hmmmm, not a bad idea.....