Filled to Overflowing Isn’t Necessarily a Blessing!

(Caveat: Not for the squeamish)

For the past three nights I’ve voluntarily banished myself to the guestroom where I’ve done battle with the sinuses from hell. How so much crud could come out of two little nostrils is beyond me. I should be earning honorary stock in Kleenex by now…..or at least bulk rate purchasing discounts.

Not only have I been trying to blow my brains out my nasal cavities, but now my lungs have decided to get into the act as well. I used to think it was bad hearing one of the cats trying to hack up a hairball. Let me tell you, humans sound even worse.

So the doctors give you medicine to “loosen up” your congestion. Then you blow even more and start really coughing up the good stuff which you promptly swallow back down so that you can cough it back up in the next go-round, and don’t ask me to explain that logic because it has always escaped me. Oh, I know that you’re supposed to somehow spit out the stuff you cough up. Has anyone ever successfully done that? Goodness knows I’ve tried but the results have been less than spectacular. When the kids were babies, the pediatrician told us to take one of those rubber ear syringes and suction out the gunk from the back of their throats when they had colds. Believe me, if I’d had one of those still around, I might have tried it. As it was, by 3:30 a.m. I was just desperate enough to consider, for a split second, looking for the Dyson. Thankfully I didn’t have the strength to haul that sucker bedside.

What I was able to grab was my copy of the “Yarn Harlot: the Secret Life of a Knitter” by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee which has been sustaining me throughout the long nights this week. There’s something comforting about knowing that even when you are feeling downright miserable, you can still find enjoyment in the words of a fellow knitter. “Yarn Harlot” has been sitting on my shelf for some time waiting to be read but it took some rather nasty germs to bring us together. So here’s to you, Stephanie, my remedy of choice! Now, dad gummit, where’s another box of tissues?

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