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Columns :: From the Back Porch Sponge-Mom Square Tongue August 10, 2003
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Uh oh. Here comes that old, familiar swallow. A sore throat. A festering convexity which contorts my facial expression into an ork whenever I talk, breathe, swallow or eat. But other than that, I feel fine.
Peter and I pop vitamin A and echinacea at the first sign of a cold or sore throat. Sometimes I even gargle with hot salt water, my mom's tried and true method. We cut lemons and shred ginger root and boil it for tea, with honey. Caustic but yummy. We slurp tomato soup. But this one got me. My nose is closed up. No air can get through. I hab a code in by dose. I'b sick. I feel terrible. By froat huhts. By doze huhts. I hab a headache. I'b shakink all over. I hab chills. A feber. I feel lousy. Over the weekend I consumed about 40 cups of lemon-ginger tea with honey. I drank hot soup. I watched a procession of marathon movies from the couch under a quilt. "The Patriot." Too bloody. "Forrest Gump." I cried so much my nose will be stuffed up until I'm 90. "Tootsie." Still funny. "Girlfight." Wow, have high schools changed since my day! It's subsiding now. The aches are fading, I can swallow without too much pain but my nose is still blocked. The nights are the worst. The other night I woke up in the middle of a dream. In the dream I was thirsty - totally parched. In my mouth, it seemed, I had grown a sponge where my tongue used to be. It was like one of those kitchen sponges that you use and then toss under the sink and forget about for 6 months. When you pull it out to use it again it's a dry, little, rock-hard thing that doesn't even remember it was ever a sponge. I was suffering deep in the throes of a fitful sleep, wondering why I had a dry kitchen sponge in my mouth. Finally I yanked myself into wakefulness and realized I'd been sleeping with my mouth open all night, and all the sands of Virginia Beach had been attracted by the open cavern. I staggered to the bathroom in the dark and began gargling with mouth wash until I was rehydrated. In fact, this leads me to another point. You know in movies when the couple has been sleeping all night and they start kissing when they wake up? Either I am a mutant or those people are. I never heard of anybody who is kissing sweet when they wake up. I don't care how handsome they are or how much you love them. The night does strange things to human breath. Anyway. I feel confident that I'll be well by the end of week. I'm beginning to get air through my nose again. All my neighbors' daffodils and pansies are bright, the forsythias are on fire and the cherry and apple blossoms are awakening. I'm eager to get out there and work in my yard too! In a few days I'll be all better and ready to be breathe in the pollen so I can get blocked up again. Ah, spring!
Kimmy Sophia Brown has loved humor and music for as long as she can remember. She writes the column "From the Back Porch" as well as reviews of music in her column "MusicViews". Her goal in her music reviews is to introduce music she loves to people who may not have heard that particular artist or CD. For information about how to submit a CD for review, click here.
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