This is Not About My Phlegm
Since I fell ill with a bad cold last Monday, I’ve wanted to write about my phlegm. I’ve wanted to detail the rainbow of unnatural colours it comes in. I’ve dreamed of adjectives to describe it’s particular viscosity, it’s lubriciousness. And, of course, I’ve needed to talk about its sheer volume produced by each coughing fit.
My God, the volume.
But I won’t, because I suspect that would try even my dear readers’ patiences.
Because my doctor can’t see me until this Friday (bloody socialized medicine), I’m off to the local walk-in clinic to plead for antibiotics. If I ingest some, I (and, more importantly, my forbearing wife) will hopefully be able to sleep at night.