“… got the rabies and the scabies and the flu,
they were low on morale but they were high on “
Sabu Visits The Twin Cities Alone
John Prine (1978)
Dear friends, I haven’t been hanging around your blogs like I like to do, or working on my own either. Sorry.
I’ve been under a determined microbial attack for maybe three weeks now. Don’t know what I did to piss off all those microbes, but there it is. My poor wife has been taking care of me while taking care of business. We just bought a house here that needs some fixin up, and there’s roofers and painters and all manner of contractors that somebody has to deal with. So while she deals I’m just laying up in bed hacking my head off wondering, Why me?
We’re too new here to have a doctoral relationship of our own, so week before last I think it was she takes me up to a walk-in clinic to see what could be done with me. The nice assistant-doctor lady gave me three prescriptions (the first of many). So we went back to the house and I commenced to eating and drinking said prescriptions. Nothing much happened. So after a few days we went back to the clinic and saw another nice assistant-doctor lady.
I told her that I was coughing so hard I could not breathe at times. She said, Well worst case is that you lose consciousness due to lack of air. Then due to being unconscious you will stop coughing and start breathing again. Worst case.
I told her that was not the worst case. I said, What if I’m defusing a bomb when I cough myself unconscious? What then? Or, what if I’m on top of a ladder trying to get a kitten out of a tree? I cough myself unconscious and fall off the ladder. Now I’m dead and the kitten is probably messed up too.
Yeah, ha ha, she says. Anyway, she says, your x-ray shows some pneumonia so I’m giving you three more prescriptions.
I’m trying to be concise here: Those prescriptions didn’t help much, and the the pharmacist says two of them didn’t even go together so he wouldn’t let us have one of them.
A few more boxes of tissues pass and we go to a different clinic, which we’ve now been to twice. More prescriptions each visit and I still feel like a glob of industrial waste. The doc at the new clinic takes an x-ray and says, Yeah, you still got pneumonia and there’s not much more we can do for you. We’ve given you everything from column A and even a couple of things from column B. (And it is at this moment that I realize that each new pill has been a different size and shape from all the previously prescribed pills! Bam! It’s the size and shape they’re trying to get right!) Anyway, he goes on to say, If you don’t shape up in a couple of days you’ll need to go find yourself an ER and they’ll send you to a hospital. Then the hospital will stick a needle in your arm and put you in one of those nightgowns that are open down the back so everybody can see your butt. Most people feel better after that.
So there it is, my friends. My wife is still running herself ragged, and I’ve got some new pills – different size; different shape.
I hope to be back among you soon, but for now… I’m out of it.