"I don't like your breath sounds," said the doctor, and what I wanted to say in reply was, "You don't like my breath sounds? How do you think I feel about 'em? Every exhalation sounds like a creaky horror-flick door slowly opening wider to reveal the great green mucilaginous Phlegm Monster reaching out its slimy tentacles to invade every last inch of your bronchial tubes. How am I supposed to sleep with a chest full of B-movie sound effects?"
But I lacked the strength, so I said "oh" and she said "Let's put you on a nebulizer." And so I was nebulized, which sounds like something Marvin the Martian would try to do to Bugs Bunny, except he would aim the silly thing the wrong way and end up nebulizing his own little adorable self into oblivion.
I've been battling the Phlegm Monster for five days now, along with half the county if the line at the walk-in clinic is any indication. Last night was the breaking point, when I realized I simply couldn't take another all-night cough fest. The good news is that it's not pneumonia. "Just bronchitis," said the doctor, but I'll bet she'd skip the "just" if she had to spend one night grappling with my breath sounds. The bad news is that there's nothing much to do for it beyond rest, fluids, and an inhaler when the cough gets unbearable.
So here I sit--nebulized, resting, drinking fluids, and getting diddly squat done. And the cough? It could last another week or more. Yes! Another week in the company of the Phlegm Monster! May as well get some popcorn so you can sit back and enjoy the show.
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