I am perpetually sick. All who know me know this. Normally I can direct all blame at the weather and or season - but when that fails and the weather is like sunny California - my body instinctively moves to cover the bases. I will tear off my rotator cuffs lifting purchases from COSTCO, hurt myself trying to jump over standing luggage while on roller skates or simply have my stomach blow up for no reason other than buying sushi from a non-reputable vendor.
No. This pattern has nothing to do with my lifestyle or ability to make responsible judgments. This is an instance of some higher power wanting to smite me… or sell more Advil… or maybe push a Kleenex stock. Or genes. Maybe I should blame those, too. But I am normally quite good about the whole thing. I go to work everyday. Commuting with my malaise while listening to audio books about how to ‘overcome natural deficiencies’. My car is filled with tissues that need to find a trash can and already scratched lottery tickets . I have organized my hairstyling to accommodate 3 spiking fevers a day and I have trained enough so that I can swallow 11 pills at a time (with a glass of water). Duh, seriously? Yes with water.
In the past two weeks I have had the same virus three times. I scratched the inside of my nose when a skewer went rogue in s’mores preparation and it bleeds about once a day. I have two burns on my face from visiting the friendly dermatologist (dude thinks he is Gladiator) to which I apply Neosporin daily. Does it help? No. It makes me look like I have oily skin. So I have bought an overpriced cosmetic for that. One that looks like shit on me. Fantastic!
So for the moment I am showcasing my ear infections. I have spent the last three weeks inserting my index finger into each ear hoping to achieve some sort of new suction “Champagne cork” treatment for the blockage within. Thus far it has not worked. I can tell because when I blow my nose it increases the pressure within the ear and my equilibrium goes on vacation to hell.
I was blowing my nose while walking through the copy room yesterday and walked right in to the Pitney Bowes machine, it grabbed my shirt (fucker) and subsequently I lost my balance and fell to one knee. I tried to cover for myself by breaking into an a capella version of Madonna’s “Strike a Pose”, but my audience was not impressed. Or maybe they were all frozen in carbonite like Han Solo during the 80’s.
So I expect I should see someone (again) about my ears. And then maybe someone else about my ankles. I think one is broken. Okay, actually I already have the x-ray and one has a bone fracture – but that’s not the one that is really bothering me. The other one - wow - that is bothersome. Something is definitely wrong there.
If I don’t crash the car on the commute home tonight I am going to the gym with Yenny though. I can't let all of this ill health bring me down. I promise not to go on the treadmill.