Bacterial Update

I went to the doctor today to investigate whether I have been invaded by viruses or bacterias.  As I suspected, I have been invaded by viruses.  Fortunately the doctor gave me lots of wonderful drugs to combat the symptoms brought on by these nasty little bits of protein.  I am normally the anti-drug.  I’m like a commercial or something:  Keep those drugs away from me!  Advil?  No.  Aspirin?  No.  Tylenol?  Definitely not.  But my brain and body have reached a place where the desire to sleep and feel no pain outweighs my desire to remain free of chemical toxins.  So it is with anticipatory pleasure that these drugs will become part of my physical makeup tonight prior to laying my head upon my pillow.

Actually, some drugs already have.  I discovered in my medicine cabinet some acetominophin-codeine I had been prescribed at some point in the past and which I did not take because I avoid narcotics of any sort.  You know, codeine resembles morphine in its makeup because it is an opiade.  It is a weak opiade, but when one is as much a lightweight as I am, it does not take much to put me on my ass.  Alas, I digress.

So last night I took this acetominophin-codeine, as well as a hefty dose of Robitussin DM.  This choice blend put me into a pleasant drug-induced stupor and succeeded in effectively blocking a significant portion of the suffering I was experiencing in my ribs.  Of course, when it wore off at 3:30 a.m. I woke to a pain the likes of which I have never experienced, including the compound fracture in my left arm at age nine, the severe ankle sprain nearly three years ago, or natural childbirth.  But for five hours, I was blissfully unaware of anything.  When I awoke to such severe pain, I simply popped a couple more acetominophin-codeine killers and some more Robitussin DM and was back in la la land within a half an hour.

Will Smith has this new movie out where he is the last guy on earth because some virus killed off everyone else or turned them into a zombie or something.  I have not seen it yet.  However, having experienced this viral infection of my own, it is not beyond the capacity of my imagination to see a virus of this magnitude taking over our little planet and rendering us all helpless or dead.  If everyone were in the state I am in right now, we wouldn’t need to be dead because we would all be useless.  THANK you narcotics for helping me through this.  THANK you cough suppresant for making it all more bearable.  Seriously.

I am glad I’m not bacterial.  I could have kissed my acquaintance who was abducted by aliens and they would have had nothing further to examine on him because there would have been no bacterias.  But being viral is not much better.  And perhaps it is worse.  Bacterias can be wiped out with antibiotics (although that may be going by the wayside with super-bacteria).  Viruses can’t be wiped out by anything except my immune system.  In either case, whether I’m bacterial or viral, I hope to be free of any of the little critters that cause pain and suffering sometime in the very near future.  Perhaps with the aid of the super drugs my physician has supplied I will be able to sleep well enough to allow my immune system to kick a little ass.

Diversions

Lara sits at her desk at work and has quite a difficult time focusing on the tasks at hand.  She does not want to be there.  She wants to be snuggled in her bed taking a nap attempting to drive the cold virus from her poor, tired body.  She wishes she were wearing thick socks and flannel jamma pants with a couple of warm t-shirts instead of the nice dress shoes, slacks, and turtleneck that look attractive but are binding and uncomfortable when the body isn’t well.

As she sits at the desk, she keeps checking her email, kind of like checking the regular mail at home, hoping someone in the world besides advertisers wants to chat or say hello.  But no.  Everyone else is busy living their own lives and doing their own thing on this rainy and cold afternoon.

Every so often she turns to the file she is working on and puts in some effort, but cannot do so without difficulty.  The sun has just peeked through the clouds and touches her head through the window next to her desk.  She looks up and sees the droplets sparkling in the light and wishes it were warmer and that she were out of doors.  But this is wishful thinking.  The tree next to the window is leafless and moves ever so slightly in the wind.  It is cold out there.  Even the light is cold.

Daydreams fill her thoughts as her head drops to her hand, her elbow on the edge of the desk.  Her eyes close slightly.  She imagines a spa, a spa in the desert of California.  She’s going to have a massage. After the massage, she will lie in the sun and relax, drinking warm tea.  Later she will soak in a hottub, tendrils of damp hair curling at her neck.  Warm hands press into her aching should …..RRRRIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG!!

The phone in her office rings, slamming her back into reality.  Crap.  The phone. She does NOT want to answer the phone. She wants to pretend she’s getting a massage from a beautiful man at a spa in the desert.  She does not want to speak to some unhappy client who is pissed off that another attorney in the office did not return her call.  “Yes, I’m sorry he did not call you back.  Oh yes.  I would be angry too.  Of course.  I KNOW you paid us eight hundred dollars and that IS a lot of money.  You are correct.  Yes.  Well, that really isn’t an emergency, although I can see how you would think that it is, but it’s not.  I can assure you.  All you need to do is tell that creditor you filed for bankruptcy.  Give them your case number and the date you filed and they will leave you alone.  Yes.  Yes.  I promise.  Believe me.  In 99 percent of the cases they go away.  Yes.  I know.  I know.  Well make sure this is one of the 1 percent of cases before getting all worried about it.  No.  Yes.  I know.  Give them our number then.  Yes.  Of course.  No.  Yes.  Yes, we’ll be out on Christmas.  I know.  I know.  Okay.  Happy holidays to you too.  Yes.  Goodbye.”

Fuck.  The vision of warm desert air and beautiful male hands lovingly massaging her shoulders is gone.  She coughs, pain wracking her chest.  Reality.  Yuck.  No wonder people take drugs.