As my great aunt used to say, I currently have the epizootics. She’s the only person I ever heard use that word, but apparently it’s a real word. She used it when we were sick. She’d say, “You have the epizootics.”
My epizootics is nasty. I’ve been coughing up a lung for a couple of days now, and this evening as the Big Guy was lying in the bed, he yelled into the bathroom, ‘Well, it could be worse.” I was brushing my teeth and I HATE when he says something like that because I know it will instantly get worse, and it did. I coughed and pooed my pants. So, now I have the epizootics and diahhrea. I know. TMI (too much information).
And this morning after the Big Guy left for work, I was lying in bed (suffering – sort of) and wondered what that crackling noise was. It sounded like crumpling paper. It was my nose. It was making crackling noises all by itself when I breathed. I darted in the bathroom, snatched some saline nasal spray from the cabinet, stuck it up my nostril and gave it a squirt. You could have heard me scream in the next county. The innards of my nose must have been raw. I literally rubbed salt in an open wound.
So now, I have the saline nasal spray on my desk and use it every half hour (without screaming). I’ve taken some migraine meds for nausea in the hopes it will stop unwanted side effects when I cough.
I still can’t keep my eyes off the news from Japan. I don’t mean to trivialize in any manner their crisis by tacking this onto the end of my epizootics blog entry. I have sat for hours now watching the internet playback the earthquake and the black water tsunami. I’ve watched it over and over. I don’t know how the survivors are going to survive, and their nuclear reactors might be a worse disaster then Chernobyl. I want to quit watching all this, but I don’t.