This post is rated U for ugh because of snot related content. People who find that kind of thing offensive should stop here unless you like being offended. In case you do like being offended, but don’t want to read a long post, let me just say right here, Baby It’s Cold Outside is a date rape song. 

When we first got to Boston, Karen and I were sick , then we got better, then Karen went to the doctor because she had a cold. I never go to the doctor for a cold, because what can they do? Also, because when I was very young, to facilitate draining, Dr. Whaley used to pop my eardrums with what seemed to be a knitting needle. That probably sounds painful, but actually it hurts more than you think. 

Last Monday, though, I was curious what new techniques might have been developed in the last 60 years to treat earaches. The answer is, none. They scoffed at my knitting needle story and prescribed an antibiotic for me. I doubt the efficacy of antibiotics and fear the damage they do to biomes, both micro and macro. But I wasn’t crazy about clutching my ear and sobbing either, so I filled the prescription and have been taking the pills. Also, Mucinex, Hall’s, lemon juice, yogurt and kefir for their PRO-biotics, and aspirin, so much aspirin. 

My ear doesn’t really hurt anymore, but my throat does. Which is a change, but not a nice one because I keep forgetting and swallowing and then remembering. Also, I am blowing out Christmas-colored mucous. The fact that my sinuses contain green mucous and fresh blood seemed to indicate I’m sick, but Sarah says it means I’m blowing too hard. I guess I don’t know my own strength. 

The other noticeable change is that my hearing is so compromised that it would probably have given up Czechoslovakia. Although I think it would draw the line at $5 billion for a border wall. Having a conversation is hard, so I told Sarah I was going back to bed even though I’ve always enjoyed my side of a chat more. Then I laughed which sort of proved my point.