Late Night Epiphany

I just figured something out. What manufacturers are really saying when they claim their medications have a "warming effect" is: "This medicine will burn your throat, and keep burning your esophagus as it slowly travels to your stomach, where it will probably result in indigestion. Maybe an ulcer. We don't know for sure.... But we're FDA approved, so don't worry about it."

Hello-- why can't they just say what they mean? Warming effect my bootay!

Neti...Or Noti?

There are two types of people in the world: those who neti, and those who don't. Me? I neti. In fact, I've turned into a one woman walking advertisement for neti pots. I admit that at first the very idea of neti pots not only repulsed me, it scared the bajeezers outta me. Some of you may recall that last year I dabbled in nasal irrigation by snorting salty water up my nose through cupped hands. I believe I described it as "do-it-yourself waterboarding". Yeah, that didn't work out so well for me.

So this year when I realized that my first-cold-of-the-season congestion was turning into an outright sinus infection, I decided I was desperate enough to buy an actual neti pot. And let me tell you, it was love at first...irrigation.

Since then I've been conducting an informal poll of peeps with colds at the moment. Do they neti, or do they stubbornly choose to suffer? It's a fairly even split. Even now as some of you read this you're experiencing one of two reactions: "Me and my neti pot are tight fo' shizzle!" or "I pity the fool who irrigates their nasal passages!" (Yes, these are actually your exact thoughts.)

As for me, I've been converted. I'd love to convert you, too. So come by anytime and I'll give you a demo! I'll even shove the neti pot up your nose and lean you over the sink in proper position just to get you started. Trust me, you'll thank me profusely. You might even take me out for tea afterward in gratitude. And maybe a pastry, too-- but just tea would be fine.

Quotes From Big Mouths

Look at that mouth! Look at how un-streppy it looks after 48 hours of antibiotics! Tonsils have returned to their normal size, the throat is no longer red and inflamed but a nice shade of pink.... Ahhhhhh, relief!

But my mouth has nothing to do with this post. Instead, I'd like to draw your attention to the quotes I've collected in the last week or two.

So, take one last admiring look at my mouth before we continue. Okay, that's enough! Let's move on....

1. LM: "Mom, when I get to Heaven I'm going to be God's helper. If I see a girl sinnin', I'll bring her to God and say, 'God, can you talk to her please? She sins a lot!'"

Me: "But there's no sin in Heaven."

LM: "Hmmm. Maybe I'll be a toy seller."

2. LM: (watching hubby exercise) "Keep on doin' that, big guy!"

3. The Bopper: (witnessing her brother's nether region, er...standing at attention while his mom changed his diaper) "Mister has a snowman peepee, right mom?"

(What kind of snowmen do they make at their house?)

4. LM: "You know what they say: 'if you marry that guy he'll burp on your kids'."

(Ummm. I don't even have a response to that.)

5. Teacher: "LM had pickles in his pants today!"

LM: "No I didn't! My butt just itched!"

Teacher: (bowing her head and covering her mouth) "Please put that one in his scrapbook."

(Done!)

6. LM: "Then anudder one bites the dust! Then they all bite the dust! Then they eat the dust! They LOVE the dust!"

(My only answer is that LM is too deep and profound for the average person to "get".)

Booty Mouth? Butt Throat?

I was just trying to think of a better name for Strep Throat. See, I was kinda...sickened...to learn that the bacteria which causes this lovely illness is the same one that resides in, well...Uranus.

So what's it doing in my mouth, huh?? Yeah-- apparently the darling little vermin are to blame for the unbelievable pain in my throat. I've never had Strep Throat before. Heck, I'm not even positive I have it now-- the doctor didn't even do a culture. (Say what?!) Now, normally I would insist that all the t's be crossed and i's be dotted before accepting a prescription for antibiotics. But you see, I probably would have gone along with it if she'd told me I had Purple People Eater Disease for which the only cure is rubbing mango on my feet and chanting "hoo-ha!" while hopping in a circle-- downtown. Just make the flippin' pain go away!

Apparently I have a lower pain tolerance than my birthing stories would suggest. Either that, or Migraines, Pneumonia and Strep Throat truly are the suicide thought-inducing experiences I believe them to be. And I don't even get a baby out of the deal! (Oh, wait-- that's a plus at this point.)

But, really, isn't the whole concept of streptococcus multiplying in your mouth disgusting? Why don't they just stay in your booty where they belong? Was it just time for their yearly pilgrimage or something? Hmmmmm.

Oh, look at the time!

Serious Question

Okay, here's the deal-- I've been battling one of the worst sore throats for the past several days. And after being a good girl and religiously gargling with salt water, drinking myself silly, getting lots of rest and taking my zinc I'm finally going to break down and steal some of Ruby Jane's mega-pain killers (the special "elixir" the doc gave her after surgery). I'm desperate here!

So my question is this: since having consumed several hundred gallons of water today (or something close to that...), will I be in danger of peeing the bed after sending myself into this drug-induced coma? It may be worth it....

I'll keep you posted.

Great, Just Great!

There's this little side-effect I've discovered from being sick and house-bound-- it's called Pacman addiction. Is anyone really surprised to hear that I've become addicted to yet another worthless, mind-dumbing internet activity? Well, at least I've moved beyond Webkinz World....

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.....

On The Brightside

Days of constant coughing + eating like a baby bird = the best looking abs I've had in a while! Who knew coughing could be such great exercise....

Oh, What A Lovely Day!

It struck me funny today, although maybe this humor is a little more on the dark side than usual, that the worldwide web is the perfect cover-up for hiding one's true self. I was thinking this because I've been doing a lot of emailing today (a gal has a lot of time for such things when she's been lying on her deathbed all morning, noon and night) and no one would suspect from my communications that I'm Swine Fluin' it over here. (Well, okay, I don't know if it's Swine Flu, all I know is that I want to die.)

And yet, if I end enough sentences with "!" and ":)" and "ha!" I can come across as being perfectly happy and healthy, while in reality I can hardly keep my eyes open right now-- ha! :) (See, I just did it again! Did I fool ya? Or are you picturing me coughing my lungs out at this second? 'Cause I surely am.)

You're not sure if you should laugh, eh? Yeah, I know it's a bit sick (pun intended) but you'll have to excuse me as I'm nearly delirious with fever at the moment-- ha! :) But seriously, would someone please come and put me out of my misery over here? Ha! :) Any method will suffice-- hee hee hee! :) Please? Hahahaaahaaa!

Wow-- time for bed, I'd say....