So I totally dropped off the Face of the Internet for a while there. Herein I shall attempt to get back on it with the following explanation of what derailed the month of January. Actually, the reason is two-fold.
(1) I participated in a church musical production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. When they asked for volunteers for members of the chorus, I held out as long as possible, but the guilt that comes from being one of only a few altos eventually caught up to me, and so there I was, in shepherd garb on a stage in front of a church full of people. Jason said I managed one look the entire performance: The Look of Fear. Although the production was quite impressive, my feelings on the subject are thus: NEVER THE HELL AGAIN. I was not meant for the stage. Or memorizing music. Or being able to control how much I sweat.
(2) I got a kidney infection. So let me provide you all with a helpful Public Service Announcement: the next time you run a high fever for a few days and experience pain radiating from your lower back, look into your kidneys. I thought I just had the flu after 3 days of a high fever and feeling like shit. But I couldn’t sleep because I had what I assumed was a pulled muscle in my back that didn’t allow any position of comfort, and I was convinced that every time I rolled over, I was damaging my back and I would end up with chronic back pain just like Elizabeth Taylor (minus the diamonds, multiple husbands, and friendship with Michael Jackson).
So Sunday morning rolled around and I made Jason take me to urgent care where I begged the doctor for a muscle relaxer, which is something I have never done before but made me feel very much like I was turning into my mother. After the doctor looked me over and made me pee in a cup, he was all, girl, this is not the flu: you have a kidney infection. To which I said, so would this have anything to do with the fact that back in December I went through a period in which I had to urinate all of the time and it kind of burned, you know, down there? And it did.
The doctor then hooked me up with some Cipro, and I was all excited about my road to recovery until I read all 12 pages of the Cipro prescribing information. Side effects of this medication are many, one of which any Nice Southern Girl never has: gas. Or what is a more proper word to use? Wind? Flatulence? Regardless, I am my father's daughter, and my mother, much to her dismay, gave birth to three girls none of whom is qualified to be a Nice Southern Girl based on this criterion. So take the normal and add more to it, and dear God in Heaven, where did all the wind come from? And the burping? It was like my entire chest cavity was full of air. But at the end of the day, the wind was the least of my concerns. Other side effects of this drug included tendinitis, yeast infection, diarrhea, and death. And you can just guess right now which one of those I got because nothing says, “Congratulations, your kidneys are all better,” quite like getting a yeast infection.
Aren't you all glad I decided to write again?
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