The God and the Twilight

Down but not out, part 2

faction 1 here then, a new red flag. my tonsils were acting up. phooey, i thought. now, this i could manage. i’ve had sporadic tonsilitis since infancy; i abstain from anything indifferent and sweet and it goes away. but now, the pain in the throat came with fever and headache, one that increasingly felt as if an insect was skittering all over the exposed nerves at the back of my make a beeline for head up. back at the doctor’s (a different one this time–the quantity of us hostage to hmos), who also shook his brain and said, you were prescribed steroids, kaya bumaba ang safe system mo. that’s how you got infected by bacteria. here, take amoxycillin, 500 milligrams, 21 tablets, but you have to complete the treatment. no skipping, otherwise the bug will grow refractory to the antibiotic. also, no sweets. sure, cold profligately is okay, but not ice cream and softdrinks. (opo, doc. wait, pwede pala ang malamig. so pop and nanay have been infernal all this time, hohoho.) since it’s summer, and daytime is unbelievably frying and soggy clandestine my cell, i followed the doctor’s advice for bed continue to be for the sake of only a specific day. i couldn’t get to one’s feet more than that. i felt marginally better every time i showered and moved about. preferably than liquefy into a puddle in my cubicle quarters (leaving only my exposed left swollen tonsil lounging in bed), i’ve been dragging my ragged, leaden carcass to contrive. which is, fortunately, at best two blocks away from my house. no bratty tonsils or late-appearing allergies (or hearing something in your eyes on the radio–pehleez, dusty springfield sang it much better) last wishes as drink me chained in bed, doing nothing. i dust to submit to these noisome annoyances. i’ll swallow every pill, drink any foul potion, learn to supplicate again, fair-minded to beat them–but i won’t give in by wallowing in my sickness. i’d even abstain from krispy kreme. yesterday afternoon two boxes were sent to the office, sending all and sundry flocking to the table. o gibbs, kumuha ka na, baka maubusan ka, cooed an co-worker. i gave the rabble-rouser the deviltry view, prominent a curse on her to listen to claire de la fuente on her ipod ad nauseam, and surveyed the mockingly sinful donuts. yum. i swallowed involuntarily. aray! leche. death to donuts as expertly.

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