Ha! I bet you didn't think I'd be back so soon. It has only been a week since my last post, but here I am.
I finally managed to kick the case of the Lovecraftian-Mutant-Thousand-Year-Hell-Tall-Drink-Of-Broken-Glass throat virus that was slowly driving me insane last week. The sickness's fell stranglehold began to loosen up on Wednesday, and I felt markedly better each day after that. Today, I feel as though I'm back to normal, or at least will be once I've had a few days at the gym under my belt.
On Sunday, I was explaining the illness to my family. Kirsten couldn't believe that I actually visited the doctor over "just a sore throat." Some people just don't understand the nature of the Alien-Beelzebub-Spanish-Inquisition-Slayer-Of-The-Firstborn throat virus. It's not like your garden variety scratchy, nasal-drainage-induced sore throat. No, this is something far more insidious.
You see, it starts with just a faint, dull pain in the back of your throat. At the time, you'll think it a little annoying, but quickly remedied with some ibuprofen. Heck, even some strenuous exercise can make it difficult to notice. But then, as another day goes by, the pain refuses to be ignored or deadened. You can still go about your business as you normally would, clinging to the hope that the worst has passed.
Oh, but how wrong you are. So very wrong. This is where the suffering truly begins. It feels as though Surtr (the fire demon who destroys, uh, everything at the end of the world, according to Norse tradition) has set up shop in your uvula. Everything you swallow is a new adventure in pain, and only cold beverages provide any sort of relief. You can eat, too, but unless you like the feeling of swallowing huge chunks of gravel, you won't enjoy the experience. You'll lay down that night, yearning for the sweet release of sleep. But most likely, this is when it will begin to elude you.
And then, it gets even worse. For now, your tonsils decide to join in the hilarity by expanding to a few times their normal size. Even swallowing your own saliva is something to be dreaded, so eating is out of the question. Drinking? Fahgeddaboudit. The hours creep by at this point, providing you with ample time to contemplate your misery. You can't talk about it, because you start to choke every time you try to speak. When you finally do get some words out, you won't recognize the thick, guttaral croak that has become your new voice.
Night time comes again, and boy, you're in for a real treat. You're most likely running a fever by now, and combined with the throat agony, you won't completely fall asleep. Instead, you'll float in delirium without any concept of reality. Personally, I endured falling rocks, pyramid schemes, and a bedside interview with Bill O'Reilly of "The O'Reilly Factor." And that's only what I remember. Occasionally, you'll wake up completely, sweaty and exhausted, trying desperately to remember what it felt like to be healthy and happy. These memories, too, will elude you.
So, there you have it. Just a glimpse of what it's like to have the Doom-That-Came-To-Sarnath-And-In-The-Darkness-Bind-Them-Hanoi-Jane throat virus. If you or someone you know has recently overcome this horrendous malady, cut them some slack when can't stop revelling in their regained ability to speak and eat solid food.
Here ends the reading about my sore throat.
After I started feeling better, I found a busy stretch of days. Last Wednesday, we celebrated Brad's 26th birthday. It was also Ash Wednesday, which officially began my abstainment from alcohol. (I did force down a beer the night before, btw.) So I just drank soda. On Thursday, Angie came over and we watched Pirates of the Carribean. Not a bad flick, that one. Johnny Depp may be the best actor of the current age.
Friday turned out to be the Friday That Time Forgot. The day just kept on going and going. When I finally got home, I decided to lay down and take a bit of a snooze. I ended up being about 30-45 minutes late getting to Angie's place that night. Big oops on that one. But the rest did some good, as I was able to bring my mad Pictionary skills to the table as Angie and I defeated Amy and Joel in one of the greatest comebacks in history. Even though Angie drew Madrid as a bean floating somewhere in the southern hemisphere.
Saturday was a pretty full day. Over lunch, Angie, Amy, Joel, and myself had lunch with Angie's folks. I really enjoyed meeting them; they were both so sweet and kind. I think somewhere down the line we're going to dinner with them in a town called Bee. I'd go just because of the town's name, but evidently it has a killer good bar & grill, too. That evening we met up with Brad, Beth, Ted, Kelly, Mike, Jana, and Jason for dinner at Grisantti's. I overloaded on bread, as I do, and couldn't finish my dinner by the time it was ready. Good thing canneloni tastes just as good a few days later. After that we all went to Sun Valley Lanes for some moonlight bowling. It was a good time, although I did worse and worse the longer we rolled. I should probably practice some more, as I've joined a league with Mike.
On Sunday, we celebrated my aunts' birthdays in F-town. It was Angie's first exposure to my extended family. Everyone really liked her, as I knew they would, and she enjoyed her afternoon with us, too. I was glad for that. By the end of the day, I was glad to get home and crash. I was pretty tired.
Now that I'm recovered, it's time to get back in the saddle and exercise. I have to work 8 hours on the tech support desk today starting at noon. So, weights now, and I'll go to the gym this evening.
I don't have much for music suggestions today, but here are a few:
"I'll Melt With You" by Nouvelle Vague. Kind of a cool take on that old Modern English song.
"Summer Song" by Joe Satriani. This one makes me want to go on a Great American Road Trip. Just gas up the car, throw some clothes in a backpack, and drive. *sigh* This is something you shouldn't put off while you're still in college. Or high school, for that matter.
"The Fear" by Pulp. A good, melancholic type of song.
"Epoca" by Gotan Project. Madness and tango. I love it.
"Big Chevy" by Timo Maas. A solid trance track.
Before I forget, check out Angie's blog. She's new to the blogging game, so stop by and leave her some encouragement. :) I've also set up a permanant link in my Links section, so check it out often.
I finally managed to kick the case of the Lovecraftian-Mutant-Thousand-Year-Hell-Tall-Drink-Of-Broken-Glass throat virus that was slowly driving me insane last week. The sickness's fell stranglehold began to loosen up on Wednesday, and I felt markedly better each day after that. Today, I feel as though I'm back to normal, or at least will be once I've had a few days at the gym under my belt.
On Sunday, I was explaining the illness to my family. Kirsten couldn't believe that I actually visited the doctor over "just a sore throat." Some people just don't understand the nature of the Alien-Beelzebub-Spanish-Inquisition-Slayer-Of-The-Firstborn throat virus. It's not like your garden variety scratchy, nasal-drainage-induced sore throat. No, this is something far more insidious.
You see, it starts with just a faint, dull pain in the back of your throat. At the time, you'll think it a little annoying, but quickly remedied with some ibuprofen. Heck, even some strenuous exercise can make it difficult to notice. But then, as another day goes by, the pain refuses to be ignored or deadened. You can still go about your business as you normally would, clinging to the hope that the worst has passed.
Oh, but how wrong you are. So very wrong. This is where the suffering truly begins. It feels as though Surtr (the fire demon who destroys, uh, everything at the end of the world, according to Norse tradition) has set up shop in your uvula. Everything you swallow is a new adventure in pain, and only cold beverages provide any sort of relief. You can eat, too, but unless you like the feeling of swallowing huge chunks of gravel, you won't enjoy the experience. You'll lay down that night, yearning for the sweet release of sleep. But most likely, this is when it will begin to elude you.
And then, it gets even worse. For now, your tonsils decide to join in the hilarity by expanding to a few times their normal size. Even swallowing your own saliva is something to be dreaded, so eating is out of the question. Drinking? Fahgeddaboudit. The hours creep by at this point, providing you with ample time to contemplate your misery. You can't talk about it, because you start to choke every time you try to speak. When you finally do get some words out, you won't recognize the thick, guttaral croak that has become your new voice.
Night time comes again, and boy, you're in for a real treat. You're most likely running a fever by now, and combined with the throat agony, you won't completely fall asleep. Instead, you'll float in delirium without any concept of reality. Personally, I endured falling rocks, pyramid schemes, and a bedside interview with Bill O'Reilly of "The O'Reilly Factor." And that's only what I remember. Occasionally, you'll wake up completely, sweaty and exhausted, trying desperately to remember what it felt like to be healthy and happy. These memories, too, will elude you.
So, there you have it. Just a glimpse of what it's like to have the Doom-That-Came-To-Sarnath-And-In-The-Darkness-Bind-Them-Hanoi-Jane throat virus. If you or someone you know has recently overcome this horrendous malady, cut them some slack when can't stop revelling in their regained ability to speak and eat solid food.
Here ends the reading about my sore throat.
After I started feeling better, I found a busy stretch of days. Last Wednesday, we celebrated Brad's 26th birthday. It was also Ash Wednesday, which officially began my abstainment from alcohol. (I did force down a beer the night before, btw.) So I just drank soda. On Thursday, Angie came over and we watched Pirates of the Carribean. Not a bad flick, that one. Johnny Depp may be the best actor of the current age.
Friday turned out to be the Friday That Time Forgot. The day just kept on going and going. When I finally got home, I decided to lay down and take a bit of a snooze. I ended up being about 30-45 minutes late getting to Angie's place that night. Big oops on that one. But the rest did some good, as I was able to bring my mad Pictionary skills to the table as Angie and I defeated Amy and Joel in one of the greatest comebacks in history. Even though Angie drew Madrid as a bean floating somewhere in the southern hemisphere.
Saturday was a pretty full day. Over lunch, Angie, Amy, Joel, and myself had lunch with Angie's folks. I really enjoyed meeting them; they were both so sweet and kind. I think somewhere down the line we're going to dinner with them in a town called Bee. I'd go just because of the town's name, but evidently it has a killer good bar & grill, too. That evening we met up with Brad, Beth, Ted, Kelly, Mike, Jana, and Jason for dinner at Grisantti's. I overloaded on bread, as I do, and couldn't finish my dinner by the time it was ready. Good thing canneloni tastes just as good a few days later. After that we all went to Sun Valley Lanes for some moonlight bowling. It was a good time, although I did worse and worse the longer we rolled. I should probably practice some more, as I've joined a league with Mike.
On Sunday, we celebrated my aunts' birthdays in F-town. It was Angie's first exposure to my extended family. Everyone really liked her, as I knew they would, and she enjoyed her afternoon with us, too. I was glad for that. By the end of the day, I was glad to get home and crash. I was pretty tired.
Now that I'm recovered, it's time to get back in the saddle and exercise. I have to work 8 hours on the tech support desk today starting at noon. So, weights now, and I'll go to the gym this evening.
I don't have much for music suggestions today, but here are a few:
"I'll Melt With You" by Nouvelle Vague. Kind of a cool take on that old Modern English song.
"Summer Song" by Joe Satriani. This one makes me want to go on a Great American Road Trip. Just gas up the car, throw some clothes in a backpack, and drive. *sigh* This is something you shouldn't put off while you're still in college. Or high school, for that matter.
"The Fear" by Pulp. A good, melancholic type of song.
"Epoca" by Gotan Project. Madness and tango. I love it.
"Big Chevy" by Timo Maas. A solid trance track.
Before I forget, check out Angie's blog. She's new to the blogging game, so stop by and leave her some encouragement. :) I've also set up a permanant link in my Links section, so check it out often.
posted by Nate | 7:53 PM
4 Comments:
Regarding Pictionary...yes, it's difficult to draw Madrid when you don't know where it is, but I definitely did not draw it in the southern hemisphere. Now, if the game card said Bee, NE, it would have been a different story :)
Well, last I checked, Madagascar and South Africa qualify as locations well south of the equator. You drew your Madrid-bean where they were supposed to be, so...
Nort, you know as well as I do that quantum physics can explain how Madrid can exist both as a city in Spain and a bean in the Southern Hemisphere.
Nort, you know as well as I do that quantum physics can explain how Madrid can exist both as a city in Spain and a bean in the Southern Hemisphere.
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