Crazy-Making Rides Again

In which our heroine ponders the mysteries of biology

Thank you to everyone who has expressed their concern, publicly or privately, over our recent illness.  India and I are better. Not much better, but better.  Slightly better.  Fractionally better.  Infinitesimally better.  Actually, India is faring far better than I am, because at least she gets to take drugs.  I, on the other hand, had so much medication sloshing around my system on Sunday night that I experienced what the doctor called "an adverse reaction" and what I called "what the HELL is going on here?"  It frightened me into a visit to the doctor's office, whereupon all medications were immediately deemed verboten for the duration.  I am allowed saline nasal spray, Vicks vapo-rub, cough drops, a humidifier at night - you know, all those things that don't do squat when compared to good old-fashioned pharmacology.  Oh yeah, while we're on the topic of ineffective cold remedies, there's a very clever new product out - it's a kind of giant Alka-Seltzer tablet that one puts in one's shower, whereupon it supposedly emits soothing vapor fumes that clear one's sinuses as one cleanses oneself.  Yeah.  Well, it didn't do anything for me but bubble up a lot and leave a minty blue-green film in the tub.  Then again, maybe it works in the kind of shower that's enclosed with a door and not just a shower curtain.  You will just have to see for yourself, but at the princely sum of $4.00 for three tablets, I was a little miffed.

I've been wondering where the hell my white blood cells, those foot soldiers of anti-viral defense, have been during this onslaught.  I picture this as being similar to one of those Police Academy movies of the eighties.  I reckon that all of the "good" white cells, the smart, tall, strong ones who made the travel soccer team, scored well on their SATs, and still found time for volunteer work in the community, were mobilized at the first sign of illness and sent babyward to prevent her from getting infected.  That leaves me defended by the loners and stragglers left behind - you know, the pudgy, pasty kid who plays video games all day; the guy who makes weird noises through his nose; the ball-busting girl who's really angry that she can't go out there and prove she's as good as any man; the neurotic wimp with really thick glasses; and, of course, the lovably sarcastic rogue who could be just as capable as the A-teamers if he were willing to face up to himself.  I figure we're at the point in the plot line where the misfits have just tried to assert themselves, only to be ignominiously humiliated by the evil Cold Virus.  Soon, I hope, we'll reach the point where the lovable rogue is juuuuust about to give up and slink away from his newfound friends when suddenly!  The pasty fat kid thinks of a way to turn his video game into a virus-stunning death ray!  And if they all pull together, it just might work!  The pudgy kid and the wimp will make some sort of giganto-ray, the guy who makes weird noises will provide a distraction right in the nick of time, and the ball-busting girl and lovable rogue will join forces to administer the final blow to this virus AND publicly show up the other white blood cells that have been laughing at them all along.  The day is saved, Caroline no longer has a cold, and that really cute white blood cell gives the wimp a come-hither wink.  Huzzah!

Okay, so it's not exactly imagining a healing light filling my lungs with radiant health, but it's my visualization, dammit, and it works for me.

Comments

[Carrie]

I don't know how you manage to be so creative when you're sick. I can barely squeak out an "I hate life" when I have a cold. Hope you are feeling better soon!

[Carrie]

I don't know how you manage to be so creative when you're sick. I can barely squeak out an "I hate life" when I have a cold. Hope you are feeling better soon!