I am back from the hospital after spending the better half of a week being poked and prodded. They listened to my lungs a lot, and asked if I was a smoker every ten seconds. I am not a smoker, and have never been a smoker, so I’m a little offended I seem to have the effects of smoking without the edgy vice out of it. If I’d known this was going to happen I obviously would have been sucking cancer sticks down like boba just for the hell of it, but noooo, I had to go the old fashioned genetic way. What was it that landed me in the hospital?
Covid? Flu? Some new allergy? Nope.
A cold. I got the old fashioned cold and now I’m glued to a nebulizer like regular air has gone out of style. I didn’t realize I needed to go get me an old Victorian nightgown and candle to go with my historical ailments. Please sir, may I have some porridge, the poorhouses frown upon my cough, sir, but I do my best, sir.
Continue reading 〉〉 “Thoughts of the Almost-Healthy”
Bay Jubilee Oldest child of Shamus Young. They/Them