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Sunday, Nov. 14, 2004 - 1:35 P.M.

The Swellness of Wellness



I opened my eyes this morning with a renewed appreciation for that which we take for granted. Like early beams of sunlight breaking through the residual clouds of yesterday, thus is the sensation of the beginning of the end of this round of my recurring bronchial nightmare.

I was just about completely recovered from the last bout of pneumonia which gripped me several weeks ago when I awoke last Friday morning with a feeling that I'd been stabbed in my throat. After a thorough interrogation cleared MOTH of any such wrong-doing, I ignored the pain, self medicated and went on about my business. This virus or whatever it is that has chosen my body for its host is made of strong stuff, and it wasn't too long before I was back to being aphonic (much easier to spell that laryngitis) and frantically taking every measure to keep my head from exploding from sinus pressure while keeping my lungs from expulsion during my convulsive whooping fits.

I managed to plug through the beginning of the work week, operating on barely enough sleep to keep me from dozing off on the tollway. Between my own snoring and coughing attacks and MOTH's, neither of us really got any rest.

Since Thursday was a work day without students, I figured I could save myself a sick day by just staying away from my co-workers, and that fared pretty well. By Friday, which was a day off for staff too, I caved in and called the Dr. who mercifully just re-prescribed my meds over the phone as opposed to making me drive in for a costly exam. With my antibiotics and inhalers and narcotics in hand, I set out to break this demonic plague.

For a week now I've been forced to spend the dark hours propped up on a mountain of what once were soft pillows leaning my head alternately to one side then the other to drain half of my head at a time. Dozing for as much as an hour in between expectorant hacking, I also suffered from the dreaded dehydrated tongue syndrome, where I find that my tongue is nothing more than a limp semblance of beef jerky. Seriously, it got so bad I left a glass of water next to the bed so when I awoke in this evaporated state, I'd dip my tongue into the glass and experience the sponge-like reaction. Hey, a girl's gotta get whatever entertainment she can at 3 A.M.

I propped myself up for a good night's sit last night, still gripped with cemented congestion, glass of water at the ready. I closed my eyes, and somehow, miraculously, I opened them then again and it was morning, and I was no longer propped upright, but laying more horizontally than vertically. And I took a breath with my mouth closed! And then I coughed up (and spit out!) a gelatinous chunk of muck. Leaping from my sick bed like a giddy fairy on a Spring morning I toppled over from the residual fluid in my ear which still has my equilibrium confused. Luckily I have my MOTH to pick me up and tuck me back into bed with only a modicum of snickering.

The dawn of healing is a wonderful thing.


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