Friday, October 7, 2016

First Class Cold

Well, you may have been wondering what Cookie has been doing.

To be honest, not much. I have come down with the cold that you get after flying.  Bother.

Monday I went to the doctor and he seemed concerned, but declared it NOT a sinus infection, but a common cold.  He did give a flu shot, which made me feel miserable for a day.  But I saw the doctor.  That's the point. I am on the road to Wellville.

Every cold follows this pattern: day one, tickle in your throat; day two, runny nose: day three, stuffed up head; day four, cough in your throat; day five fits of coughing - and - days 6 through 30 fits of coughing that do nothing for you.

Based on this calendar, I am on day five.

And oh, the good news just keeps rolling in.  (Blogger needs a sarcastic font.)

A friend from high school died from liver failure.  He wasn't a drinker or drug user, but they think it might have been hepatitis.  Anyway, he ignored the symptoms thinking it would go away and by the time he got to the doctor he was too far gone treatment or transplant.

Look folks, if something is wrong with you, for God's sake go to the doctor.  Failing to do so isn't going to result in it clearing up on its own.  Save yourself.  If not for you, for the people who love you.

Now if you will excuse me, I am going to slather Vick's Vapo Rub on the bottoms of my feet - its the only thing that stops the coughing.  


  1. I haven't used vaporub for years, but I know the smell just by reading that word!

    get better soon, cookie!

    1. Honest to God truth. If you have a bad cough, slather a thick coat on the bottom of your feet and toes, then put on some thick socks and climb into bed, you'll get a night of coughing free sleep. It works.

  2. Maddening how hard it can be to get otherwise sensible people to go to the doctor. I had to go all Nurse Diesel on a colleague Thursday - he was sitting in his office looking sickly. I plopped myself down now unasked and ran through a to-him random series of symptoms, got a not encouraging set of responses, and then practically manhandle him into an Uber and off to an urgent-care center.

    If you're a middle-aged man with a few extra pounds, and you find yourself clammy, lightly nauseous, and with stabbing pains in the back and left arm - get it checked out. It wasn't a heart attack, but his EKG was irregular and he's having follow-up tests.

    Of course it's even more maddening if, like me, you did go to the doctor on time and just got plain misdiagnosed, but that's another story altogether...

  3. Once I loved such a shattering physician,
    Quite the best looking doctor in the state,
    He looked after my physical condition
    And his bedside manner was great!

    When I'd gaze up and see him there above me,
    Looking less like a doctor than a Turk,
    I was tempted to whisper, "Do you love me,
    Or do you merely love your work?"

    He said my bronchial tubes were entrancing,
    My epiglottis filled him with glee,
    He simply loved my larynx
    And went wild about my pharynx,
    But he never said he loved me.

    He said my epidermis was darling
    And found my blood as blue as can be,
    He went through wild ecstatics
    About my lymphatics,
    But he never said he loved me.

    And though, no doubt, it was not very smart of me,
    I get on a-wracking of my soul,
    to figure out why he loved every part of me,
    And yet not me as a whole.

    By my oesophagus he was ravished,
    Enthusiastic to a degree,
    He said 'twas just enormous,
    My appendix vermiformis,
    But he never said he loved me.

    He said my cerebellum was brilliant,
    And my cerebrum far from N G,
    I know he thought a lotta
    My medulla oblogota,
    But he never said he loved me.

    He said my maxillaries were marvels,
    And found my sternum stunning to see,
    He did a double hurdle
    When I shook my pelvic girdle,
    But he never said he loved me.

    He seemed amused,
    When he first made a test of me
    To further his medical art;
    Yet he refused,
    When he's fixed up the rest of me,
    To cure that ache in my heart.

    I know he thought my pancreas perfect,
    And for my spleen was keen as can be,
    He said, of all his sweeties,
    I'd the sweetest diabetes,
    But he never said he loved me.

    Indeed. Jx