M. Giant's
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks

Tuesday, February 04, 2003  


With Trash out of town again this week, I’m not only alone, I’m also sick. Being home alone is no fun if you can't get out of bed, and spending several days in bed is no fun if nobody’s around to bring you stuff.

So I’m on an intense regimen to get better before she comes back. I’m engaging the pathogen with a multi-pronged attack, including:

 Sleep. Like Ralph Wiggum, that’s where I’m a Viking.

 Cough Formula D, some off-brand red goo that makes me want to turn my head inside out every time I take a swig of it. I’m hoping it’ll be worth it, though, because it’s Maximum Strength red goo. Is there any strength besides “Maximum,” by the way? What if I only want to feel a little bit better? Could I go to the pharmacy and have them hook me up with “Middling Strength” or “Puny?”

 Lots of fluids. Water, tea, juice, pop, soup, whatever. This does not render the previous item redundant. Goo is not a fluid.

 Pills. These are like some kind of over-the-counter flu/fever/pain relief/decongestant/antihistamine/expectorant/rehydrator/dessicant/emulsifier combination that make me want to take a nap before I’ve put down my water glass. So it and my “non-drowsy” cough syrup have to fight it out. Since the pills have my laziness on their side, they win. But the cough syrup gives me twisted fever-dreams in revenge.

 TheraFlu™. You know, the powdered medicine you mix with hot water?

It’s actually not TheraFlu™, technically. I sent Trash to the store to get me some TheraFlu™ the other day. I’d drunk two cups of it before I went downstairs and realized that it wasn’t TheraFlu™ at all. It tasted like TheraFlu™, and it made my throat feel as if it were being held open by the Jaws of Life like TheraFlu™ does, but it wasn’t really TheraFlu™. It was a TheraFlu™ knock-off, and it was called something else. You know what it was called? I’ll tell you.

It was called “Flu.”

“What the hell is this?” I demanded. “I asked for TheraFlu™, dammit! And what do you bring me? Flu! I’ve got flu already! The last thing I need is more flu!”

“Let me see the box,” she said, laughing at my pain.

“You come get the box,” I told her. “I’m not touching no ‘flu,’ I’ll tell you that for free.”

She picked up the box to read the label. “Inactive ingredients,” she began, and dissolved into hysterics.

“Oh, thank heaven for small blessings. Bring your sick husband a box of flu and it’s not even active. I’m glad someone’s looking out for me.”

“Stop it,” she guffawed.

“You know, it seems like if you’re going to end up with inactive flu anyway, you might as well just save your money. Now we have no TheraFlu™, inactive flu, and less money? How does this work to our advantage?”

I think that by that point in the conversation, Trash decided it was time for the sleep part of the regimen again.

posted by M. Giant 3:12 PM 0 comments


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