All doctored...
Oct. 25th, 2007 02:54 pmI have been to the doctor, under protest and threat of life and limb. Doctor has given me antibiotics for a chest infection which he aggravatingly informed me he suspected could be pneumonia. Presumably a mild form.
Pneumonia, for crying out loud! It’s such a Victorian disease! It’s like catching cholera! Ok, maybe more a 40s, 50s disease - but it's still like catching rickets. Why couldn’t I have caught mono or another fashionable disease? I refuse to be stricken by less than fashionable ailments, damn it! Personally I have doubts anyway, since when is nausea a pneumonia symptom? Of course coughing and phlegming sudafed everywhere is enough to make anyone nauseous. Or this vile muck that tastes like aniseed, I hate aniseed!
Needless to say, I still feel kind of goopy and horrible which is somewhat exacerbated by the invasion of the Female Collective (the Hive Vagina was not impressed that a member of the family was sick and his only carer was male, and therefore, in their eyes, incompetent and invaded with all the inexorable power of the Borg).
On the plus side this means the fridge, freezers and cupboards are full of extremely wonderful things to eat.
Down side is I don’t feel like eating any of it. Even though they believe that the way to make sick people eat is not to force feed them but to make food look so damn appetising that even the dead will rise to eat it.
Plus side is that after generations of healing the sick and the injured my inestimable female relatives are experts at knowing what food will stay down with a tender stomach (including, oddly, my Great Aunts Extra-Meaty Soap, which is a cross between thick soup, gravy and thin stew, rich and tasty but for some reason is better than tonic water and crackers for the nauseous) and how to flavour food so a stuffed nose can taste it.
Down side: same experience means they have between them an unholy list of concoctions, tinctures, poultices, creams and salves which would have had them all burned as witches in ages past.
Plus side, with their domineering presence, Beloved has been forced to shop sensibly (as opposed to our usual habit - 8 types of soy sauce, 3 kinds of Parma ham, couscous and no bread or milk)
Down side, they’re in mah cupboards, messing with mah food!
Still on the amusing side, Beloved has taken up Yoga. No, I don’t know why either, one of his enthusiasms I think (he’s so bad at this. He’ll see something and suddenly he wants to do it more than ANYTHING in the world and if he doesn’t do it/have it he might as well shrivel up and DIE because his life will have no meaning any more! then 2 weeks later he will be bored and find something else. I assume somewhere he has seen an advert/tc programme/net site about yoga). While it’s amusing to watching him stretch and strain wearing a pair of shorts and little else, I doubt it will last.
Pneumonia, for crying out loud! It’s such a Victorian disease! It’s like catching cholera! Ok, maybe more a 40s, 50s disease - but it's still like catching rickets. Why couldn’t I have caught mono or another fashionable disease? I refuse to be stricken by less than fashionable ailments, damn it! Personally I have doubts anyway, since when is nausea a pneumonia symptom? Of course coughing and phlegming sudafed everywhere is enough to make anyone nauseous. Or this vile muck that tastes like aniseed, I hate aniseed!
Needless to say, I still feel kind of goopy and horrible which is somewhat exacerbated by the invasion of the Female Collective (the Hive Vagina was not impressed that a member of the family was sick and his only carer was male, and therefore, in their eyes, incompetent and invaded with all the inexorable power of the Borg).
On the plus side this means the fridge, freezers and cupboards are full of extremely wonderful things to eat.
Down side is I don’t feel like eating any of it. Even though they believe that the way to make sick people eat is not to force feed them but to make food look so damn appetising that even the dead will rise to eat it.
Plus side is that after generations of healing the sick and the injured my inestimable female relatives are experts at knowing what food will stay down with a tender stomach (including, oddly, my Great Aunts Extra-Meaty Soap, which is a cross between thick soup, gravy and thin stew, rich and tasty but for some reason is better than tonic water and crackers for the nauseous) and how to flavour food so a stuffed nose can taste it.
Down side: same experience means they have between them an unholy list of concoctions, tinctures, poultices, creams and salves which would have had them all burned as witches in ages past.
Plus side, with their domineering presence, Beloved has been forced to shop sensibly (as opposed to our usual habit - 8 types of soy sauce, 3 kinds of Parma ham, couscous and no bread or milk)
Down side, they’re in mah cupboards, messing with mah food!
Still on the amusing side, Beloved has taken up Yoga. No, I don’t know why either, one of his enthusiasms I think (he’s so bad at this. He’ll see something and suddenly he wants to do it more than ANYTHING in the world and if he doesn’t do it/have it he might as well shrivel up and DIE because his life will have no meaning any more! then 2 weeks later he will be bored and find something else. I assume somewhere he has seen an advert/tc programme/net site about yoga). While it’s amusing to watching him stretch and strain wearing a pair of shorts and little else, I doubt it will last.