Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See

Whenever I get sick, my mother asks me the same thing: Why?

And it annoys the crap out of me every time. (It goes without saying that if I'm sick, I'm already crankypants to start with.) The last go around, I told her "well, a microorganism has invaded my body, and my immune response is staging a rousing defense. Thus, elevated temperature, increased mucosal secretions (resulting in post-nasal drip, i.e. sore throat), etc. etc." She amended, "I mean, what are your symptoms."

.........

I woke up this morning with that odd little tickle, like a nagging memory of something you've forgotten to do. I had to close my eyes and knit my brows together a little to figure it out: my throat did not.feel.right. Shit. Work is going to go to '11' next week, and as pretentious, ridiculous, and self-centered as it sounds - I don't have time to be sick right now.

I believe deeply in the power of the body to heal itself. Given the raw ingredients of water and sleep, it can work miracles. A lot of my "fighting off illness" measures are probably placebo effect - but if it works, who cares? Thus, I am guzzling Airborne^® (mmm....pink grapefruit flavour!) and echinacea (which a friend calls Ganesha.)

Citrusy effervescence, meet elephant-headed god. Make me well.