Seems as though I have managed to procure myself a little dose of Le Grippe. Consumption. Bloody Flux. Grocer’s Itch. Hook Worm. Commotion. Scrumpox. Scrofula. Scriviner’s Palsy. The Screws. And so on and so on.
I did make out like a bandit in the heavy antibiotics and liquid narcotics department, however. Thus one can easily explain away the rambling verbosity I am currently exhibiting. it leads me to believe that Faulkner could be replicated perhaps -reconstituted for these modern times- with just a dram or two of the purple drank. Beats the bloody hell out of a two quart a day bourbon habit. Although he’d have been hard pressed for a Jolly Rancher.
Ah the miracle of modern medicine. Praise be, I’m five lowly Azithromycin pills away from salvation – 250 mg to be taken with food.
There was a time fate found me facing a critical aquatics test for a summer job and a ripping case of bronchitis simultaneously. I pleaded and begged with the attending Doc at the student health center. He was a friend of the bass player in my band, not that it is relevant. I gladly dropped trou for the nurse. She blasted my gluteus maximus with a boat load of Bicillin LA – the standard treatment for Syphilis as well. Good for what has crawled upon you and died, either way.
Twas many a year ago now, but I seem to remember catching a glimpse of a Prince Albert can with a 23G 1.5 bolted to the end of it. Think in terms of something with enough bore to push chunky peanut butter through. This sterile mother would have been suitable to harpoon the family cat.
Anyway. Twelve hours later found me cured, kicking with one leg, and steady clicking off 2000 meters in the pool.
I’m currently hoping for a similar result.