Antibiotics are Our Friends

One of my kindergarten students informed me that she needed a Kleenex because she has a "Sonics infection". Man, oh man! I've had those before, and they are the pits. When I lived in Oklahoma, I had one massive Sonics infection that took six months of super-antibiotics to smite.

My Hungarian allergist insisted that I snork on a piece of aluminum foil, then rush it to her office for analysis. She referred me to a German Nose Guy, who x-rayed my Sonics several times. Sure wish I had those x-rays now for collage purposes. The Nose Guy did an otorhinolarangoscopy, which is like having Lewis and Clark drive a Humvee through your nasal cavaties only to crash into your deviated septum at a remarkable speed for such a heavy vehicle. I fainted, which further convinced him that I was a truly pathetic specimen of a woman not fit to bear his sons. Next he sent me for a CT scan. Whoa. I really wish I had those images for a collage!

The Nose Guy looked like an older version of an evil hospital orderly on "Edge of Night" named Sharkey back during my soap addiction of 1981. I am proud to say that I've been soap free for twenty+ years, one day at a time.

Just when the Nose Guy was planning a surgical assault my Sonics cleared up. He was crushed, but couldn't show it, of course. He was really looking forward to using a laser weed whacker* to enlarge my sinus openings, and breaking my nose to straighten it just for fun. He asked me how and when I had broken my nose. I didn't even know I had broken it, but I'm pretty sure it was when I rode the saucer sled over the retaining wall.