Monday, December 1, 2008

The Proboscis Of Nostril Dramas

Looks like it’s my turn to go down with a horrible bout of the galloping snots. I’ve managed to avoid it for the whole of November despite being sneezed on by just about everyone I’ve met, and by lunchtime, I fully expect my nostrils will be capable of lubricating every last cog in the cosmos — bar the one at the back of my brain I reserve for writing.

Problem is, I’m clearly not ill enough to not iron*. I’m in that halfway house of snifflers’ limbo between bounding through the day like a zealot and flopping into bed like a corpse — that no-man’s land of joyless tedium over which the sullen Gods of cleaning, ironing and washing up hold sway. Normally, I’d flick through the TV channels, but it’s been quite a while since I’ve donned my Captain Grot veneer of mucus and it seems the BBC have now dispensed with screening cartoons and documentaries during the daytime, favouring instead shouty studio debates featuring a variety of dysfunctional imbeciles and ugly fat girls permanently up the duff. Maybe I’ll iron some handkerchiefs.

The good news is that me and Geoff have made up. My conscience finally got the better of me and I knew I couldn’t leave her suspended by her ears over a flaming cooker ring for another day. Besides, her wails of anguish had got so bad, I woke up several times last night thinking Edith Piaf had risen from the dead. So we’ve been enjoying considerable Snuggle Up On The Sofa time, and thanks to my hiccup-frequency display of sneezing, her coat is looking pretty shiny.

One bonus of the snots kind of illness is that, unlike diarrhoea, when it has you in the fiendish green coils of its bogey tsunami embrace, you can carry on eating. So maybe that’s what I’ll do today: eat. Fish is supposed to be good for restoring you to health if you’re ill, so I may hop on a shoal of trout and get a bit of fresh air on my way to the supermarket. Instant noodles are down to 50p a ton this week, so I’m stocking up just in case the world economy improves.

Hopefully I’ll be over this by tomorrow. I’m not the type for allowing viral mutants to put their feet up on the bean bags of my blood cells for any longer than is necessary. I just hope I avoid that headache thing where it feels like Led Zep have reformed a couple of inches behind your eyeballs. That, I can do without. I hate Led Zep. Bleuuuugh....

* To hell with grammar. This is a compound verb — an activity.


fairyhedgehog said...

That was gross.

I'm glad you and Geoff have made up again. I've been meaning to ask, why is she called Geoff?

Oh and I hope you feel better really soon. Sod the housework, if you're ill you might as well make the most of it. If the television is awful you could always read a book.

JaneyV said...

The snot chronicles continue. Actually it has eased up at my place of work in the last week - we've moved onto horrendously high temperatures now.

As for sick person's telly - nothing beats comfort food (soup and cheese toasties - although the dairy won't help the mucus situation) and a movie. Geoff is lucky to have a forgiving owner like you.

So self-proclaimed Dr, Janey's advice: Feet up - fire, duvet, comfort food, movie or book.

Kiersten said...

Ha! Clearly FH has never been around my house if that is enough to gross her out.

(Just kidding, FH, the cat covered in a snotty sheen part was rather gross, wasn't it?)

Can I recommend a nice, soft piece of flannel? Much easier on your nose than tissue, we've found. Dojo had a bit of a problem the entire time we were at my family's house, and would frequently (and desperately) shout, "I need my booger bucky, Mama!"

So get yourself a booger bucky and you'll be set. (And then you could also stop using poor Geoff.)

Whirlochre said...

It's not been too bad so far and I've even managed a few paras on my WIP, but as evening approaches, I can feel those muke-beasts abseiling down the inside of my nostrils once more.

One thing I have discovered is that your good old Beecham's Powders have more powerful active ingredients than the new fangled max strength Lem-sip versions that cost three times as much. Plus, they have the nostalgia effect of all those Truly Difficult To Swallow medications of my youth. Odd, but I actually like the flavour of Beecham's Powders. Bizarre.

McKoala said...

Graphic. Nice.

writtenwyrdd said...

I am not sick, bwahaha! But I do hope you are also not sick, soon.

I thought this post was gross until I read the most recent one. Lovely imagery of a disgusting subject.

Robin S. said...

Oh, Whirl. Are ya better? Hope so.

I still love you, even though you hate Led Zep.

Mom In Scrubs said...

I gagged a few times reading this.

Snot is the most vile of all the bodily excretions. And believe me, I've dealt with them all. I'd rather deal with pus, or feces. Vomit runs a close second, or bile.

"Phlegm": it even looks disgusting when you write it!!

I just had a full-body shudder. Knock it off, willya?

Whirlochre said...

Now here's a funny thing, a big old I Owe Ya token to the value of Uno Muco just popped out of my ear. I'll redeem it in your name, MIS, I promise I will.

And maybe we ought to start a Least Favourite Bodily Fluid meme?

I agree snot is fairly horrid, but it does have its uses. If you decant it off into a jar every time you get a cold, it makes great wallpaper paste.

Whoops. Another token...

Whirlochre said...

Oh — and most of the time, when they're playing, Led Zep don't even sound like they like Led Zep...