The Big Machine

When you think about it the body is really just a big complicated machine.  Parts are chugging along, more or less agreeing with each other as to what needs to be done.  Sometimes parts go haywire and malfunction, and sometimes bad things get in the body and screw around with the lovely ballet that the parts are dancing.  Sometimes parts are injured by unwanted foreign agents, also screwing up the ballet.

I say this: maybe they should try some other art form?  What is it about ballet that they find so compelling, anyway?  Maybe a symphony would be better.  Maybe the cellos would always find themselves in harmony with the oboes.  Injuries and unwanted foreign agents be damned.

A couple of days before I left on my walkabout I could tell I was coming down with a cold.  So be it, I said - a certain number of colds are inevitable and, as colds go, this one hasn't been bad, slowing me down but not stopping me.  It has, unfortunately, led to a sinus infection which I suspect is one of the ongoing curses of all of my oral cavity surgeries.  I'll say this: there is nothing that will pique one's appetite like the slow drip of infected mucous into said oral cavity.  Why that stuff turns yellow I'll never know, and it's not an attractive shade of yellow, either, but more of a sickly, off-color yellow.  When I become a fully accredited, fully functioning god I'm going to do something about that.  I don't think I'll simply stop the infections - as a god I suspect I'll take some small enjoyment in watching people suffer with sinus infections as I'll no longer be subject to them, as a god - but I can make the effluent less objectionable.  That seems fair.

In my non-god wisdom I decided that it would be a good idea to take some decongestants to see if I could flush the yellow effluent out of my infected sinuses as quickly as possible.  Get that shit out of here, I say.  While this has produced the desired effect it has also fucked up the normal functioning of my bowels, an organ system that struggles with travel and time changes during the best of times, often taking a few days to get back on track.  So I'm constipated.  Great.  I'm swallowing bitter sinus infection juice and I feel like I weigh about 20 pounds more than I actually weight.

The poor people I'm staying with are downstairs whipping up a breakfast omelet.  The smell of the food cooking is making me mildly nauseous but I don't see a socially acceptable way of avoiding the meal.  I'm going to be an engaged breakfast companion.  Eating breakfast with other people isn't at the top of my list when I'm in fine mettle so you can imagine how I am when I'm not feeling that great.

So yesterday I'm on the can, straining to evacuate my bowels, and I think I tweaked my back.  My back is balky today - whether this is due to my toilet experience is open for debate but you have to admit that it makes for a better story.

When I left home I felt great.  This is not how I envisioned things playing out on the walkabout.  This is probably why a lot of people don't like to travel as they get older.

I'm going to type a random sentence here as I can't think of any wisdom to share that would sum up this experience.