I woke up yesterday sounding like “demi moore on a bad day” as coined
by my friend. But it was a bit worse than that, my throat feeling as if
it were stickily glued together with rubber cement, and me croaking as
my dog looked around worriedly, probably convinced I was a beast still
in human form. Regardless, it didn’t seem to get any better as the
morning waned on. So I took matters into my own hands. Being that my
doctor pre-health insurance was a chinese dude doling out meds and
various cure-alls from the health food store, I returned to the man who
has never done me wrong (as in every single time I have had an issue,
this dude is on hand and has never ‘not solved’ the problem).
Unfortunately, it was Sunday, and he wasn’t open. Me, cursing someone
being closed in the middle of winter in possession of such knowledge,
decided to do it up old school style. I picked up a bulb of garlic,
knowing I had the honey at home, and proceeded home. On top of the fact
that my breakfast sandwich was whack and not my order, I cut up my
bulb, fully planning to chew two enormous bulbs of garlic with a
spoonful of honey. Garlic will kill anything alive and wreaking havoc
on the body, and so I, remembering someone telling me this was the
thing to do, pop the hugest clove (and I am talking the size of 3
regular cloves) into my mouth and start chewing.

Now, I don’t know if anyone has ever done this on purpose before, but it is highly unreccommended.
As in, unless you are comfortable puking, don’t do that. Ever.
Immediately my mouth was filled with this burning jalapeno and a
thousand onions sensation, and I swallowed it, leaving a trail of fire
down to my stomach. I started sweating profusely, and then came the dry
heaving. I had forced myself to swallow it, because I wasn’t gonna go
through all of that pain for nothing, see, and with several spoonfuls
of honey. Honey/Garlic combinations probably only work in theory,
because my body started bucking, and as I stumbled to see through the
sweat to the restroom,  I bent over the bowl, feverishly shoving
my fingers down my throat to get it out. I had changed my mind at that
point. I didn’t want to chew the garlic, I didn’t want it in my body, I
didn’t give a shit if it was good for me, because my stomach played the
reverse peristalsis game and I heaved everything in my stomach out but the garlic.

This went on for like five minutes, and I, being the eternal sick baby,
tumbled sideways onto my couch and started whining. I am a really bad
sick person, and you’d think that with three heart surgeries under my
belt that I would know better at this point than get all worked
up over something as silly as puking, but I just hate that “I can’t
remember what it feels like to feel okay” moment that you inevitably go
through when you vomit.

Eventually I stopped sweating and whining, and sat on my couch
bewildered for a while. I then spent all kinds of retarded money on
thera-flu and good food and then later on decided to rent some flicks,
something I haven’t done in a while since getting digital cable.
Manchurian Candidate, Shaun of the Dead and Garden State.

The first? A+. The second? Too slow, I passed out. The third? I’m watching it right this moment.

I went to the health food store this morning and got my stockpile of
get well quick supplies from the chinese man. Once again, the type of
weather that has my dog ferociously wagging her tail once she gets
outside, but once we had made not even one round around the block, she
held her right paw up, wounded, and started crying. This has happened
several times this Winter already, so I scooped her up, crooked on my
back, and had to keep telling her “Asa, it will be okay, Stop crying”.
She was audibly whimpering, but she should be happy that she’s only 35
pounds and I can carry her once she’s done being happy in the snow.