I seem to have contracted a virus in my nasal cavities.
I can't imagine the source, what with my religious use of Germ-X and avoidance of wheezy people. The mystery deepens, because it began late Sunday afternoon. From the time I arrived home on Friday evening, I did not venture from my dwelling until noon Sunday. Not even for a 44 oz. Diet Coke from the gas-station-chicken establishment. I went Diet Cokeless until Saturday evening, when I popped open a can to accompany some microwave popcorn while I watched the original Planet of the Apes with The Pony. It was one of his birthday gifts.
That means that I was not exposed to a school or community virus during the incubation period. My outing to Walmart at noon on Sunday was too close in time to the development of symptoms. Which included a bit of unwanted emission from the end opposite my Diet Cokehole, and a slight headache.
Typhoid Genius denies responsibility, though he awoke with a headache Saturday morning. A headache that was not too severe to eagerly accept my offer of a lone, pan-sized pancake from a box of Bisquick mix. He soaked it in syrup, consumed two-thirds, pronounced it delicious, and offered me a taste. Val is no fool. I opened the drawer for my own clean fork before taking a bite. Perhaps the sickness settled in the syrup.
Typhoid Hick denies responsibility, though I heard him hacking up half a lung on Saturday morning. We share a sleeping area, you know, and he straps on that breather that sprays his exhalations over my side of the bed like a fire boat spraying New York Harbor on the Fourth of July. In addition, he had a touch of the tail-end of the illness around 3:00 a.m. Sunday. I know, because the atomic-bomb-force winds of carbon dioxide stopped ruffling my hair momentarily as he made his exit.
This must be some Stephen King's Stand-like superbug that has infected me despite my best efforts to remain virus-free.
I call shenanigans!
9 comments:
The original POTA movie? Good entertainment like that should have driven all your germs away. Charlton Heston--shirtless (is that a fur shirt or is he just that hairy?) and not yet whacked out about the NRA--you should have been able to fight off any bug.
The bug wants what the bug wants. It clearly wants you.
Two words: Neti pot yeah, I know...you aren't in to water boarding!
Okay, how about taking a couple of drops of Nutribiotic Grapefruit Seed Extract into some water and snuffle it. You can also put a drop or two of the GSE in some OJ and drink it. Boom! Done! Your nasty bug will drop like 100 lb sack of flour from the top shelf of the store...
You write with such color : fireboat spraying NY harbor. You have me hacking and spewing. Hope you feel better soon. I hate when my big head feels bigger.
I have had the bug for three weeks now even with antibiotics. Maybe it goes through the computer and infects unsuspecting bloggers:)
Sioux,
Keep your hands off him, you dang dirty ape!
**********
Stephen,
Clearly. An immaculate infection.
**********
labbie,
I do not care to kill myself with a brain infection from Neti Pot tap water. I ain't snufflin' nothin', and OJ gives me heartburn. I'll have to heal the old-fashioned way. By whining.
**********
Linda,
Sorry to infect you over the internet. Even sanitariums and my own island can't keep me, the unclean, away from the innocent masses.
**********
Josh,
Funny. How long since you checked in here after your absence? It better not be three weeks ago!
Airbourne perhaps?
hmmmmm I don't have to answer that right :)
labbie,
I thought I saw a lawsuit about that stuff not doing what it advertised. Maybe it has a strong placebo effect.
*********
Josh,
You may take the Fifth, kind sir, because the last time I checked, this is still America. Do you hear that patriotic music in the background? (You don't have to answer that either.)
Post a Comment