If you knew you were under some sort of invasion or attack how would you react? Yeah, me too and it didn’t work.
I am an over achiever when it comes to avoiding colds, the flu, the plague, lice, bed bugs, and other highly communicable diseases. I wash before and after everything I do. I have to be as I have an auto-immune disease, which basically means I am immune to the workings of any and all drugs costing less than $2,000 per month. I consume huge quantities of Germ-X, Germ-B-Gone, Germ-Stay-Away, Germ-a-cide, and other hand, arm, and hair sanitizers. As long as the germ carrying beasties that I come in contact with are adults, I am successful.
Introduce one little germ carrying grandchild, and I succumb faster than doodle-buggers digging for cool sand in July, in the South.
Those little mucous factories get near me and I’m a goner for sure.
Their aliens become my aliens.
They get well in three days and three weeks later I’m still hosting an invasion of unwanted guests.
I want to know why it takes all the energy I have to manufacture mucous I don’t want and can’t get rid of. Add in a cough that has broken ribs, frightened children in the night, and taken my already sexy, throaty voice to a deeper level, and I look and sound like a slime monster. And not a very friendly one.
On the second day of any given infestation from the mucous monsters, I haul myself out of bed, manage to put some clothes on, calm the voices in my head, and drag my dead butt (and other parts) to the doctor. By day two I have already develop bronchitis and find it difficult to get enough oxygen to support me, let alone support the colony of invaders who have set up household inside my very being.
The doctor diagnoses bronchitis, a sinus infection, fluid in the ears, bags under the eyes, missing nail polish, and the grand opening of Mucous Is Us complete with attendance by lungs and sinuses. She prescribes antibiotics to gun them down and suggests I try any and every sinus drying product available, none of which work on drying the sinuses. They do however work on drying everything else including mouth, hands, hair, skin and is affecting my friends as far away as Crotch Dust, MS.
In the past weeks I’ve consumed five cases of bottled water, three liters of soda, five boxes of tissue, three tooth brushes, one box of chocolate cookies, and still the inside of my cheeks won’t let go of each other. Any time I try to eat real food it sticks in my dry throat. I cough like I’m losing my lungs, and everyone within half a mile runs to make sure I’m ok. Try to tell anyone you aren’t dying when you are coughing so hard you need Pampers.
When the coughing fit subsides you don’t want to sit around reassuring others that you didn’t die. You need a change and you’re the one who has to do it.
I’m now over half way through day eight of the invasion. I am happy to report that we have the mucous monsters on the run though I can still hear their footsteps in my head just about the time the sun goes down every night. We have won a few battles, including but not limited to, two hours of uninterrupted sleep. I can also sit upright, walk and am now able to speak more than two words in a row without being subjected to a coughing fit.
My daily diet currently consists of eight pills to dry the sinuses, two pills to shut down the mucous factory, one or two pills to control the cough (hack, hack), 15 bottles of water, and a sleeping pill. The mucous army marches on, but I see victory in the next month or so.
I am happy to report I am on my way to once again being well. Ok, maybe not well, but at least damn good.
From the life and mind of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
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