Home Remedies

I have been sick for the past 2 weeks. I had all kinds of green crap spewing from my head and just before I called my doctor in a panic, it crept ugly little head down into my chest. Ugh! Luckily for me, where I live, the grocery stores are participating in free antibiotics so I called my doctor and asked if he would call one in for me.

Now you would think that a doctor would want to see a person who has a foreign being living in their lungs but not my doctor. He is very special and can treat a person from 32 miles away. . . whatever. I wish I could make 6 figures a year for that talent. God I would cure polio for that matter. . . oh wait. . . that's already been done.

So yesterday I'm on the phone with my accounting co-worker who deals with taxes. I was in need of a current copy of the tax rates across the country in order to do my job. While I was on the phone I went into this crazy fit of hacking and choking. What could it be? Oh that's right. It's that thing in my lungs that my doctor hasn't checked out yet. So my coworker asks if I have tried rubbing Vicks on my feet at night and wearing socks over it. Old Wives tale. At that point I was willing to try anything. I had to work out last night and then I would try the advise.

I went home, changed and put a mentholated patch on my chest so that I would choke minimally. I hadn't worked out since Christmas as I have felt like ass all this time. I figured that if I started working out and working through this stupid sinus infection that I could kick all of this nasty disease. My class was an hour long and you can't stop moving or else the little 60 year old may with the Brittany Spears head set on will signal you out.

Working out with one of those patches on is interesting to say the least. You have a constant supply of oxygen going through your nose at all times yet your throat is dry almost the whole time, forcing one to drink an ungodly amount of water.

I finished my class and signed up for another class. . . Tuesdays and Thursdays. Now I'll be in class from Monday to Thursday with three days to recover. I went home, heated up some ravioli from the other night, grabbed a beer (yes that is how I reward myself after a good workout) and parked my ass in my bedroom watching another depressing episode of Law and Order. After dinner, I whipped out the Vicks and started rubbing my feet. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. God did I feel stupid! "This shit better work or I'm going to slap the stupid off your face" was what I was thinking at the time about my coworker.

I went to bed and hubby followed about an hour later. He tried to get all snuggly when he felt my socks and told me that it wouldn't work and flipped over and went back to bed. I woke up this morning and thought that it had until I found myself over the sink in the kitchen literally hacking up a lung. I thought I was going to die. Who would be this cruel to me? And again, I was looking around to see if anyone was watching my demise.

Moral of the story is, don't believe everything you hear. If anyone else has some sort of funny wives tale that can cure an ailment, please share. I'd love to hear them!