my sinus/bronchial infection is more boring than your dreams

...so then I was flying? But like, I wasn't really flying, it was more like floating? And the world beneath me was Earth, but like not quite Earth? And then my grade seven teacher Mrs. Deachman showed up, the one who was obsessed with grammar? And she was sitting on this cloud that was sort of like an armchair, looking stern and asking me to parse a sentence? And suddenly her face was more like Sean Connery's - which is funny because they both had Scottish accents - and then he leaned forward and kissed me?

...

...

Yeah. I just made that up to prove the point that other people's dreams are in fact = or > interesting than my illness. I.e. what I'm about to write is going to be DULL DULL DULL. TURN BACK NOW.

But I'm writing about it anyway. Hey, maybe I should turn this into a fascinating pharmacology blog.

Having slept for two weeks and having horked up at least two pounds of tan-coloured phlegm (quantity estimated by eye and additionally calculated based on how much weight I've lost), I finally went to another doctor. She said "You were under-treated. Now you have to be re-treated. Here, take some more antibiotics and kill that mofo infection once and for all."

So now I'm on apo-azithromycin. It's a five-day course and shouldn't mess up my noodle as much as the last one. (Naturally, I got to experience the listed side effects of "dizziness" and "confusion".)

I'm also going to start plowing yogourt and acidophilus etc. to prevent the hell any woman can experience as a result of antibiotics: the dreaded YEAST INFECTION.


Yeah, yeah, maybe you didn't need to know that, but MAYBE YOU DID.

In the meantime, I'm really looking forward to seeing Hooker's mullet. I hope he goes through with it.