Somewhere after the age of 30, you begin to be acutely aware of the power of your body (and not in the make-a-man-drop-to-his-knees sense either). Your body begins to provide certain moments of, shall we say… clarity.
I first noticed this when I was pregnant with The Swimmy. I had a bionic sense of smell. Guy across the auditorium who hadn’t brushed his teeth? Might as well have been breathing 2 inches from my face. Anything chicken? Not a chance. Cleaning products the maid service used? Awful, but I put up with it because I was happy to have them! (I’m a team player like that.)
After The Swimmy was born, it became my stomache. That rumbling mean I’m hungry? Nope. Better be glad I knew where every bathroom in the city was. Any mother with toddlers, pregnant or semi-nauseated person traveling with me figured out I was more valuable than their GPS system in their car.
Currently I have the latest SwimmyGerms manifesting themselves as a sore throat and cough. And, last night, my throat had a revolution. I had just put The Swimmy to bed and was settling in to watch today’s episode of General Hospital (shut up, I know) when I got a tiny tickle at the back of my throat. Which promptly turned in to a violent coughing fit that lasted 4 minutes!
OMG! Eyes watering, not breathing, throat wrenching, bent over (please, G-d, don’t let me back give out!), make it stop! When it was over, the dog looked at me like I was a giant cat with hairball issues. And not only was my throat unbelievably raw, the muscles AROUND my throat were sore. Christ.
And so, today, here I sit, back sore (but not out!), throat raw, little voice. Bring on the Z-pack, people!