I’m finally emerging from a multi-day fog of chemical induced surrealistic life experiences. The past few days have been a great roller coaster ride in which shadows and shapes shifted in and out of my Robitussin, Alka Seltzer, cough drop, infused existence.
When last I felt this way, I was soothed/tortured with a cycling reality involving some interesting characters…
My return to the “underworld” began last Wednesday afternoon when a tiny, irritating scratch began to make itself known in my throat. By bedtime, the little bugger of a scratch had grown into two butane lighter fueled torches along my throat walls. My first line of defense was ZiCam, which I did or did not inhale as directed. (I’m still not sure which condition prevailed.) Any any rate, a less than well balanced 6 hours of sleep led to the final day of work before the Christmas Holiday. Fortunately, my current line of work allows for me to avoid human contact when necessary so I remained in my home office tied to the world through 16 gig download speeds and 5 gig upload. My musings, heard only by me and Herbert the Crazy Cat, were mine and mine alone. It wasn’t necessary that they make sense to anyone. Herb was in tune with me as I put finger to keyboard closing out the work demands of a fairly slow work week.
The ZiCam was or wasn’t helping (I’m still not sure) so I began the first of the Robitussin/Alka Seltzer Day/Night cycles. I would rotate between stuffy headedness to crystal clear clarity and back again. Friday came and went without me leaving the house. Herbert, I’m proud to report, made several journeys into the nearby woods. Once, I noticed the floor beginning to swell up and rise toward my face. After calming myself, I discovered it was merely Herbert awakening from a nap underneath my mountain of used tissues. I somewhat recall the Navigator in a HazMat suit hovering over me with a bottle of red fluid, which turned out to be the next Robitussin installment.
Saturday dawned forcefully with the explosiveness of a massive sneeze bringing me several inches above the bed. Linda Blair would have been proud. After my first two medication cycles, I recalled that I had not finished my Christmas shopping for the Navigator. Presciently , I thought the new harness for her Stihl Pro 85 Weedeater might not be a sufficient gift. Thank goodness for the clarity of Claritin. I bundled myself up and asked Herbert where he had hidden the keys to the truck. He did or didn’t answer (I’m still not sure.) I’m hoping that the events of the next few lost hours will someday become known to me. I really want to know how the new Lexus with the bright red ribbon came to be in our driveway and what, if any, that had to do with the big smile on the Navigator’s face. It was or was not well worth it (I’m still not sure). At any rate, the local Sheriff recognized my drug induced state and was quite kind in not pressing charges regarding the car. The Navigator is smiling less now…
I missed, for the first time in my 29 years of wonderful marriage to the Navigator, the Christmas Eve celebration with her side of the family. I either did or did not sleep through most of the evening. I seem to recall Charlize Theron in a Carolina Panthers’ uniform doing a victory dance after she plunged through the line of the woeful Tampa Bay Buccaneers defense. I am told the Panthers actually put away an opponent sometime during my recent sojourn. (Personally, I think people telling me this are just taking advantage of my circumstances.)
Christmas was or was not a pretty day (I’m still not sure). The Navigator and I made it to my sister’s homestead for Christmas lunch. The visit was punctuated by a conversation in which Bro Dave called from Sunny Southern Cal and I coughed back at him. He either did or did not understand my coughing sequence in which I imitated Morse code via coughing spells. The tears escaping from my eyes served merely to enhance the overall ambiance of the moment for those family members watching the performance.
Monday saw the beginning of the lifting of the fog. My medication cycles were slowing, which turned out to be good as I was about out of Robitussin. My head was enjoying longer periods of being present in the same world as the Navigator. Yes, I was finding my way back just as I’ve done in the past when similar maladies have come into my life. This time there was no Headwind Harry accompanying me on a feverish ride. There was only the knowledge that I was now recovering just in time to - (Say it with me!) - go back to work!