I know you're probably sick of hearing about it, but it's on MY mind (and my tonsil) and this is MY blog, so I'm going to keep writing about it.
Hopefully, this tonsilolith will work itself out on its own, but I have an appointment for this coming Tuesday to have it removed by more trained hands (Rexburg's local Ear/Nose/Throat doctor). Woo hoo.
Here's a list of remedies I've tried so far:
• Removal with a q-tip
• Removal with a dental pik
• Removal with a medicine dropper
• Gargling with salt water
• Gargling with soda
• Gargling with mouthwash
• Gargling with apple cider vinegar and water (sooper dooper gross, btw)
• Gargling with lemon juice and water
• Coughing
• Throat clearing
• Swallowing
• Making out
The latter attempted remedy was the most fun, but unfortunately proved ineffective. Oh, and also. I have all the ADDITIONAL symptoms of tonsilitis. Awesome. (Have I mentioned that there are three weeks left till the end of the semester? Good timing, immune system.)
Anyway, the purpose of this blog is less to reveal my failed attempt to rid myself of an uncomfortable malady, but more to share with you the soliloquy it inspired. I guess Macbeth is still on my mind, so I modified the famous "unsexing" words of that gentle lady of the house of Macbeth, to express MY feelings on this damned throat ache.
The voice itself is hoarse
That announces the fatal lodging of a stone
in my tonsilar crypt.
Come, you Ear/Nose/Throat doctors
that tend on mortal throats, dislodge it here.
And fill me from the sinus cavity to the esophagus top-full
of most desired relief! Make free my tonsils
Clear up the access and passage to their crypts
That no vexatious visitings of nature
shake my guttural freedom,
nor keep peace between the cause and the cure.
Come to my woman’s throat,
and take my calcareous gathering, you otolaryngologists,
Wherever in your Madison Plaza offices
you wait on tonsilar infirmities! Come, health insurance,
And present yourself as the surest form of payment,
That my small savings see not the wound the doctor makes,
nor home remedies peep through the blanket of the internet,
To cry “Hold, hold!”
1 comment:
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Tonsilwock, my child!
The stones that smell, the walls that sting!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and, wild,
That frumious Garglesing!"
She took her vorpal pik in hand: Long time the toothsome foe she sought --
So rested she by the Gumgum stand,
And swished awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought she stood,
The Tonsilwock, with pus of flame,
Came stinking through the tulgey wood,
And cornchipped as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal pik went snicker-snack
She left it flat, and with its gore
She went cacoughing back.
"And, has thou slain the Tonsilwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish child
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
She swallowed in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Mom
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
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