Middle-age butch has been feeling under the weather.
There’s nothing sadder than a sick butch. Well, perhaps a crying butch, but it’s the new year, people, and no one wants to start 2013 with that disturbing image.
Anyway, I woke up a few days ago with searing pain on the left side of my throat. Which put me into a panic of sorts. I was afraid that I had come down with another case of strep throat.
I am prone to sore throats and strep. I have huge, enlarged tonsils that attract the Streptococcus bacteria much like The L Word’s Shane attracted every lesbian in a 50-mile radius.
(Note: Cool TV lesbian attracts other lesbians. Middle-age butch attracts bacteria.)
As soon as morning came, I grabbed W’s bedside table light and hurried to the bathroom. I positioned myself in front of the mirror, stuck out my tongue and ahhed several times while bouncing the light off of my red, inflamed tonsils. I didn’t see any white patches, which eased my mind a tiny bit.
It still could be strep. But I haven’t been running a fever and don’t seem to have any other symptoms besides a sore throat.
I have had strep throat so many times that I can pretty much diagnose myself.
My throat has always been my Achilles heel. W insists that my throat woes are tied to my throat chakra and my communication problems. “You haven’t been blogging,” she notes.
“Right,” I say. “Or, maybe I’m sick with a serious, life-threatening bacterial infection.”
I like to shoot arrows in W’s new age theories. Even though I secretly believe in them.
“Good God, I haven’t been blogging,” I say to myself.
Yesterday, I came to the conclusion that I’m on the cusp of a mild cold. I ruled out a trip to the doctor for a strep test and possible antibiotics.
I made sure to sleep in. My body needs the extra rest. And, gargled with warm salt water.
I hit the health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. I bought a bottle of chewable vitamin C tablets that weren’t on sale, three kinds of cough drops and a new box of tea, even though we have 30 kajillion boxes in the pantry.
I knew we had an ample supply of ginger ale and orange juice at home, as well as half a bottle of my grandmother’s tried and true cold and flu remedy, Rock and Rye. It’s whiskey. And fruit. So, it’s totally good for you.
Even with the last of the holiday before us, I took it easy. I put my feet up when possible. Watched part of a Wife Swap marathon.
It hit me this morning that I should try to be kinder to myself in 2013. Not just when I’m sick, but every day.
- I should take care of my body and nurture it with non-whiskey-soaked fruits and vegetables and vitamins and antioxidants and other things that are really good for it. (With a little bit of whiskey thrown in on occasion.)
- I should indulge myself more. With new kinds of tea, magazines that catch my eye, books and music and other items that will add to my day but won’t break the bank.
- I should make time to do those things that are important to me like writing and reading and, yes, blogging. (Apparently, the lack of it messes with my throat chakra.)
- I should gently prod myself to break out of my comfort zone and volunteer, take a class, take a risk, go somewhere new, meet some new people.
- I should forgive myself for little things and big things, old sins and new ones.
- I should love myself a little harder and a little better, which would give me new reason to be kinder to myself.