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uvulation
Earlier I voice-Googled "swollen uvula". Google misheard me several times. swappernet you feel; swollen new york; swollen you feel. Swappernet is a swingers' web hookup service. I wondered if they pay to be misheard.
A cold I thought I'd beaten has dug in for the long haul, it seems. I worked this morning, but packed in in for the afternoon. And now the tickle in my throat as if there's a hair there has grown to a frequent sensation of having something stuck at the back of my throat. Examination via flashlight (but not the back of a teaspoon to depress the tongue, as my mamma used to do) revealed that my enlarged uvula keeps touching the back of my tongue.
Takes a lot of mind over matter for me to chill out in the presence of this sensation. I have a hyperactive gag reflex---can't swallow pills, for instance.
I'm also tired of coughing and getting more and more swollen in the glands. My neck looks like a football lineman's. Even the insides of my cheeks are swollen. Face cheeks, that is. Ha ha.
It's hard to believe I'm considering taking a cold to medical professionals. But I might just, if it keeps up. Clearly my immune system is kicking in with the better part of all it's got. Hate to think it might need help.
So far I've been able to sleep a good bit, and CPAPly, too, though with some contending with the congestion in that regard. I've been saying I don't feel horrible, more irritated and low-level misery. Now I think the cumulative effect of days in a row, plus sore eyeballs and facial/jaw bones, and this pesky uvula thing--- it's adding up to make me feel a little sorry for myself. And to diminish, it would seem, any qualms about kvetching here at length and in the detail old people are often credited with wanting to share about their ailments.
But hey, nobody's making you read this. RIght?
Maybe the dog can do without a trip to the dog park tomorrow. I sorta wish she were a doggie of divorce and she could go stay with her other parent for a day or two. Except it's highly likely I don't approve of that person's parenting style, fictional though she/he may be.
More hydration now, followed by, it is hoped, unconsciousness, of a finite period, not to exceed roughly 8 or 10 hours. (Yeah, I know. So picky.)
Dear God: the swollen uvula would be a lovely thing for you to heal overnight. I ask, I'd say, vs. beseech. Seems like I oughta save beseeching for other matters.
Speaking of other matters hoped for, the Cardinals beat the Rangers tonight (game 7 of the World Series, so that's that for this year), and the people in the streets continue the occupying. NPR actually had economic injustice as a topic of conversation today.
A cold I thought I'd beaten has dug in for the long haul, it seems. I worked this morning, but packed in in for the afternoon. And now the tickle in my throat as if there's a hair there has grown to a frequent sensation of having something stuck at the back of my throat. Examination via flashlight (but not the back of a teaspoon to depress the tongue, as my mamma used to do) revealed that my enlarged uvula keeps touching the back of my tongue.
Takes a lot of mind over matter for me to chill out in the presence of this sensation. I have a hyperactive gag reflex---can't swallow pills, for instance.
I'm also tired of coughing and getting more and more swollen in the glands. My neck looks like a football lineman's. Even the insides of my cheeks are swollen. Face cheeks, that is. Ha ha.
It's hard to believe I'm considering taking a cold to medical professionals. But I might just, if it keeps up. Clearly my immune system is kicking in with the better part of all it's got. Hate to think it might need help.
So far I've been able to sleep a good bit, and CPAPly, too, though with some contending with the congestion in that regard. I've been saying I don't feel horrible, more irritated and low-level misery. Now I think the cumulative effect of days in a row, plus sore eyeballs and facial/jaw bones, and this pesky uvula thing--- it's adding up to make me feel a little sorry for myself. And to diminish, it would seem, any qualms about kvetching here at length and in the detail old people are often credited with wanting to share about their ailments.
But hey, nobody's making you read this. RIght?
Maybe the dog can do without a trip to the dog park tomorrow. I sorta wish she were a doggie of divorce and she could go stay with her other parent for a day or two. Except it's highly likely I don't approve of that person's parenting style, fictional though she/he may be.
More hydration now, followed by, it is hoped, unconsciousness, of a finite period, not to exceed roughly 8 or 10 hours. (Yeah, I know. So picky.)
Dear God: the swollen uvula would be a lovely thing for you to heal overnight. I ask, I'd say, vs. beseech. Seems like I oughta save beseeching for other matters.
Speaking of other matters hoped for, the Cardinals beat the Rangers tonight (game 7 of the World Series, so that's that for this year), and the people in the streets continue the occupying. NPR actually had economic injustice as a topic of conversation today.
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And that's my sum total of uvular conversation.
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