the cheese stands alone

An Emaily Explanation

Dear Goddess,
I am sneak-emailing. Don't tell the GM1, cos I'm not supposed to be up, let alone mucking about on the computer.
I think you gave me your sinus thingy. The doctors pulled it out of your dainty schnozz and using stealth alien abduction technology, implanted it in my head and made me dream I was having probe sex with an alien who looked a lot like Colin Farrell. Or the Farrelly brothers. I get confused.
Point is, I've been laid low (was that a pun? Must check rules...) by a "serious" sinus infection. My doc likes to say "serious" a lot, in case I think she means "comedic" sinus infection.
It probably does not help that I had a sinus headache for three weeks before it blossomed into screaming adulthood, so I guess I can be booked for negligence.
In any case, when my right maxilliary sinus exploded, it kicked off a migraine chain. Kind of like a daisy chain without all that gang-bangy goodness. But the meds I was on for the sinus disaster precluded the migraine meds. Ergo, I spent three days pogo-ing between "please, for the love of god, shoot me" to "give me the fucking gun, I'll do it myself."
I was, at one point, awake for 29 hours as the pain just wanted me to stay up and listen to bad late night television. At hour 27, the hallucinations kicked in and I was sure Suzanne Somers was at my thighs begging me to be the master. Or something like that.
At hour 29, the GM1 got a bit miffed that no one at the doctor's office had returned my calls and he proceeded to storm the Bastille. He called them three times then stomped down there in person to get answers as to What Can Be Done Until These Stupid So Far Non-Effective Antibiotics Kick In?
Finally they told him to have me take the Tylenol 3 they'd given me (so far useless in the fight against crime) two at a time instead of one. Now, before you write me off as all tits and no brain, let me assure you I'd thought of this many many times but had been lectured "seriously" on the dangers of doing such a thing. So I didn't.
I am such a good patient. Might die of the goodness, but I'm good nonetheless.
In the meanstwhile, during the worst of it, my eye swelled shut and my ear went dead and my jaw refused to let me talk or eat. It was just before the migraine grabbed me by the balls for a second attack that I had the GM1 post the notice, as I suspected I would be outta commission for a bit and didn't want a "she's run off to SF to do drugs with Courtney" scandal on the blog.
Cos I know that's what you all think when I don't post.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the T3 times two did the trick and I fell asleep like a great huge falling asleep thing. I slept for almost 14 hours, got up to look at dinner and retch, and slept again.
The GM1 tippy-toed off to work this morning, with strict instructions regarding my behaviour, including "no drinky, no dancey, no bloggy". Apparently my one-eyed squinting at the monitor (and it would be my one good eye that goes astray, leaving the 20/150 one to carry the load) disturbs him, as does the subsequent gagging that follows once the nausea kicks in.
I am just one fucking barrel of fun lately.
So that's where I's been, missy and keep it on the QT, because the GM1 reads your blog and I don't need a spanking on top of everything else. I prefer to save that for when I can savor it.
And as I check this over for spelling flaws, ever perfectionist even on my deathbed, I realize it might make a sufficient post to explain Where The Hell I've been.
Forgive me if I pimp out our correspondence for my blog. :)
Yours in snot-hood,
LeeAnn