Tag Archives: inflammation

Bronchitis

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Bronchitis: (n) inflammation of the mucous membrane in the bronchial tubes.

Odd as it may seem, the only way to stay well is to have been sick enough to build up antibodies to protect you.Dictionary B

It’s a strange system, isn’t it?

But without equity, some of us would believe that being ill was a sign of God’s anger, while others would conclude that clear nasal passages were a divine authorization to act superior.

So we all get sick.

It’s all about the timing.

When I was in my twenties, I recorded an album in Nashville, Tennessee, that started to get some attention. That in itself was remarkable, but then, when our group was invited to perform at a huge festival, our producers were nearly ecstatic, and were sure that this was the stepping stone to give us the focus to launch our career.

We planned the set, rehearsed the material–and somewhere along the line in the process, I got bronchitis.

I was so congested, choked up and stuffed that I was unable to produce any sound from my voice beyond a harsh whisper.

I tried everything.

Hot steam, over-the-counter remedies, honey and lemon and various configurations of prayer.

I stubbornly refused to cancel the festival, deciding that I would heroically see it through–that somehow or another, God in His infinite wisdom would grant me voice at the last moment.

In front of thousands of people, I croaked out what could have been our hit song–had I not been “Froggy McFrog.”

It was embarrassing.

No–humiliating.

Even those who loved me didn’t want to be around me. It made them try to be nice–and they didn’t feel nice.

So to some degree, from that point on in my life (since I kind of make my living from my voice) I have become a Cold Nazi.

If a sniffle is in the room or a child is dripping nasal fluid all over the house, I run away in horror.

I am not proud of that.

But my bout with bronchitis did warn me about the danger … of not having a voice in the matter.

 

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Appendicitis

dictionary with letter A

Appendicitis (n.): inflammation of the appendix.

It’s just not damn fair.

Even though I realize that knowledge is a good thing, a little knowledge sucks.

I know I have an appendix, and I have learned enough to realize that it doesn’t do anything for me whatsoever except threaten to become inflamed, requiring my body to be sliced for removal. On top of that, this little booger has such ambiguous symptoms that every time I have a slight twinge in my belly, I’m curious if it is pleading deep within me to exit from its extinct purposes.

Yes, the appendix turns us all into hypochondriacs–because we know it has absolutely no value to us and its only purpose in life seems to be to get sick and die. (The only other part of creation that emulates it are old people playing shuffle board in St. Petersburg, Florida.)

I try to resist being whacked out by it. If I get one of those tummy aches, I think to myself, more likely spicy meatballs than the appendix.

But I am still aware of the danger lying deep within my flesh, threatening a gashing exit.

Maybe we would all be better off if it was just removed. Matter of fact, if somebody came up with a way to shoot a laser through the skin to dissolve it, I might line up for the treatment.

Of course, adding to the paranoia is the realization that because we have limited knowledge, they will find out in five generations that the appendix was actually the key to solid physical well-being. And those future scholars will marvel at the ignorance which existed in our time, which not only failed to discover the intrinsic value of this little organ, but actually removed it–shortening the life of the patient by twenty years.

I tell you–it’s a frustrating mess.

Thinking that it’s worthless but dangerous…or wondering if it’s dangerous because we stupidly think it’s worthless.

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