Update: Medical intervention drained the wound and prescribed oral and topical antibiotics — to be put up the nostril too! In ten days I will know what strain of nastiness was inflaming my tissues.
People talk to themselves all the time.
“You can do it!”
“One more sand dune.”
“Two more points.”
“Next time, we’ll get ’em next time.”
But to whom are they really talking? Their ego, right. Certainly not their body. The body is an assumed audience, willing audience. Do you ever wish you could talk to your body … literally? Negotiate with it? You try to eat well, sleep better, and stay physically active, but sometimes the body develops a nefarious agenda and you are the last to know about it. There you were thinking that it was satisfied, no better or worse than the rest of you…two happy frozen yogurt cups.
And then it turns into Loki with a scowl.
I used to be a very healthy person, but over the course of George W. Bush‘s and Barack Obama‘s Presidential terms, my physiology and corporeality have decided to turn to the dark side. Yeah. I had believed only my ego was capable of such dealings, but apparently I was mistaken. From gastrointestinal discontent and rebellion to allergies to bacterial infections, it seems a futile desire to appease the body’s edicts.
Earlier in the year I had an MRSA infection and got to flash a dermatological “trainee” my arse-bottom whilst undergoing a slice-and-drain procedure. Local anesthesia was awesome — I didn’t feel a thing. An hour or so later, it wore off and HOLY FRIED OYSTER FRITTERS. There was also cellulitis of the left eyelid. The ophthalmologist prescribed antibiotics to take care of both the bum and the eye. Relief was had in both places in a very short amount of time. Within two weeks I was feeling back to normal.
Until now. What felt like a splinter in some skin on my belly mutated into a tender, swollen, red, moderately itchy entity that looked identical to something that appeared on my hand a year ago. After more than a week of various ointments on the hand (Carmex, Neosporin, Vicks, aloe, and Calendula) that made no perceivable difference, a coworker suggested I use hydrocortisone. So I did (Cortizone-10 Hydraintensive) and it worked wonders overnight.
The reason I didn’t immediately turn to it again with the belly thing was because I suspected a bite mark had broken skin; and since I didn’t want to use Neosporin any more frequently than necessary, I put some Calendula on it. Ironically, I had to douse it with the Neo for a couple days as it got infected. I’m now back to the hydrocortisone and I think it’s getting better. I’m willing it to get better. After yesterday’s ousting of pale wasabi-colored goop, it better be better.
What is my body doing? Is it attacking itself? Is it messing with me? Trying to decipher the physiology’s disappointments and objections has turned into a game of charades. Why couldn’t I meet it for coffee and talk about whatever is bothering it? (My unconscious talks to my conscious mind. I’ve figured out that lingo).
I know I don’t get enough sleep; I need to drink more water for every half a caffeinated beverage I finish*; I could very likely be having a psychosomatic response to unconscious turmoil. Nevertheless, I’d still like for it to respond in real-time and not just accumulate legions of antagonistic bacteria that trash my epidermis like Keith Moon to a hotel room.
How is it that when I didn’t give a flying biscuit about my lifestyle choices and ate whatever and whenever in whatever amounts**, the only physical ailment I had was a headache every Sunday?***
I know things could be worse; I’ve read personal accounts of people who’ve had sports injuries that led to things I cannot begin to fathom how they survived them.
If things don’t improve by the end of the week, I will seek medical intervention.
* Mind you, I have consumed much more water this year than I have in previous years. And, I eat a lot of water-based fruits.
** I was a kid of the 80s and enjoyed high fructose corn syrup a few times a month. There was a lot of Cheetos too.
*** I got headaches when I was a kid, usually on Sundays or after watching a movie in the dark.
~!~ And now for something much more light-hearted. Soren Bowie on animals that look like candy. When I was done reading it, I wanted a fruit roll-up, a marshmallow and a gummy fish.