I have a new Mony to add to my list of Monies. It's the Mony I get from taking the Penicillin. The Penicillimony.
I developed a nagging head cold about ten days ago. It was only nagging -- not enough to wipe me out or change how I do things. This cold was just enough to annoy and make me sound "sick". Well... all of that was about to change within minutes of my saying, "I wish it would either knock me out or get over itself."
Careful for what you ask for, right? Within minutes of my wishing for the cold to sh** or get off the pot, the cold decided not to get off the pot. The cold shat. I ended up with a gnarly case of the dizzy fatigues and a sinus headache. This sinus headache was so very painful. Torturous. Imagine, if you will, a golf ball shoved into your left eyeball socket. Now image someone, Saddam Hussein perhaps, holding that golf ball as tight as possible and someone else, Adolf Hitler perhaps, duct taping it there. And as if the whole golf ball in the eye socket isn't bad enough, somehow that pain went down the left side of my face and lodged itself in my jaw. As if someone, Mussolini perhaps, punched me in the chops.
That was my fascist dictator sinus headache and nothing helped. Not even the sudafed, ibuprofen, excedrin, and acetaminophen varieties. I tried it all. And being as I'm mostly stupid, I went running Monday morning. Running with a bad case of the fatigues and dizzies isn't a great idea. During this run, I had just finished a hefty complaint about the golf ball lodged in my brain, when my friend -- The Olympic Hopedful (who qualified for the 04 Olympic trials with a 4:14 1500) -- says, "you have a sinus infection."
(Get it? Olympic Hopedful? As in Hopeful in the past tense? Because it was 2004? Just checkin'.)
Ah man. Going to the Doc was not on my list of things to do, but I went anyway. The Doc gave me a subscription for a penicillin derivative and within 24 hours of first ingesting it's moldy magic, I was a brand new girl. Like Pinocchio. Only I wasn't a boy. And I wasn't wooden. And I don't talk to crickets. And my nose doesn't grow when I lie. Other obvious stuff happens when I lie. Ask Spouse. He'll tell you how bad I am at lying.
It's been a while since I last took an antibiotic for an infection. I did, however, take an antibiotic in India to prevent the Malaria. Did you know that the mosquitoes in India carry all four kinds of Malaria? It's true. Our guide announced it like this, "Malaria? Yes! Malaria! We have all four kinds!" As if they deserved a medal or something for it.
That penicillin stuff? It ain't just for Gone-ta-Korea and Syphilis anymore. It's for sinus infections too!
And there it is: My Penicillimony.
Now speaking of the Doc. The Doc didn't have other patients at the time and was in a chatty mood. He asked about the trip to India - how I spent my time while the Spouse was working and whatnot. We talked about third world poverty and war and how lucky we have it here in the U.S. He had just returned from a humanitarian thing in a South American country. We swapped stories. Then somehow, the conversation led to Bollywood movies and he said something that made me think, "Dude. Do you read my blog? Docs don't read blogs, they read medical journals and such." I realize the Doc is supposed to know all my ins and outs and what-have-yous, but I don't know if I'm okay with the Doc reading my blog. I mean, there's some seriously personal stuff here.
For the record, I doubt the Doc reads my blog. I'm just paranoid. But if he does start to read my blog... I just might have to go private. I don't want the Doc seeing my privates.