Friday, March 25, 2011


The beginning of this week, I felt a rumbly in my tumbly. Rather than going away, it developed into more symptoms: fever, hot-air balloon head, and wet cough. It's the cough that gets me every time. It almost makes me vomit, because the sensation is there even though my gut isn't repulsing anything.

Which makes me realize I'm like my uncle Ron. In my memory, he didn't much like doctors. Not sure if it was because they never seemed to be able to do much for his mother, or something else. For me, though, it's because I would have to build a relationship with a doctor. I would want him to know me, to get to know my symptoms, to well, in essence be a small-town doctor. But he/she won't be. And really, I just need to get over it.


For now, I have an entire weekend ahead of me which is essentially unscheduled and lots of sleep, water, soup, and rest will probably do the trick of curing me of the frog-voice.

Fingers crossed!

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