Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Give it to Me Straight, Doc.

Ahh... you're here. It is so refreshing to know I can always count on you to be here. You have this peacefully calming affect on me...it's such a breath of fresh air in the midst of a hectic day.

My life is a bit more peaceful than it has been in the previous few weeks. The stress and physical strain of making a huge life-altering decision has come and gone. I have peacefully and comfortably turned down an incredible job offer. Alas, I am the only one who fills my shoes, and dare I say I chose Keens over Stilettos.

My mind is at peace, but my emotions and physical body have endured somewhat of a good ol' fashioned 'beat-down.' Many a-sleepless nights and nail biting daydreams of a potential and successful future in Houston left me in the groggiest of spirits. I've got all the symptoms: sore throat, scratchy voice, a seemingly endless supply of thick rubbery mucus that surfaces at the most convenient moments possible (delighted to know, I'm sure), and a fuzzy haze of lethargy.

What do you make of it, Doc?

"Well, Ms. Fogarty, stay here in this backless paper shirt and I'll be back in about 20 minutes to give you your diagnosis. Here, sit on this butcher paper until I return...and feel free to peruse this 'Highlights' magazine while I'm away. I recommend the hidden objects page; it can be quite tantalizing. "

(Little does he know that all but one of the hidden objects have already been circled by previous patients. One of these days, I will prevail in having the 'first crack' at it.)

"Okay Ms. Fogarty...you can put your shirt back on in a minute. The parchment paper robe is merely so I feel more authoritative. I have some bad news."

"Bad news? ...What is it?"

"Well...how should I put this...It's... news that's not good."

"No, I mean what is the bad news?"

"Oh. The bad news is someone has already circled all the hidden objects in all our Highlights magazines."

"Tell me something I don't know. What's the good news, then?"

"The good news is the results of your tongue depressor tests are in."

"Am I going to die?"

"Yes. We all die eventually, but there's no telling when or where."

"No, I mean what good news do you have to share?"

"Well, since you asked, I just saved money on my car insurance, but that's none of your business."

"Did you really? Oh wow, well who do you have insura--No, no, I meant what are the test results?"

Diagnosis: I've determined you to be...'drained.'

Prognosis: 100% chance of recovery...but it will be tough.

Prescription: Take one (1) nap, for ten (10) minutes each day, until gone. Do not take on an empty stomach."

No empty stomach, hmm? I think I can tackle that minor detail. Chocolate pudding is the herbal remedy for many weaklings. For others, ice cream (hard, soft, and the malted variety) has become a staple: the medicinal therapy of choice. My sick food? Planters Cheeseballs. I personally have come to believe that one whiff of the artificial cheese powder on circular puffs of crumbly air nurses my immune system back to health almost instantaneously. I have faith that this, in combination with the purest elixir found in nature - pulp-free pineapple orange juice- is the ancient tribal healing secret.

...And rest, I shall. I'll be blunt, there's no reason to hide: I milk it. I milk it like a maid. Being sick is an opportune time to let yourself be vulnerable and leave your well-being to others. People, I will share this with you one time, and one time only: If you don't milk it, you aren't taking advantage of all that being sick has to offer. This is your time to have everything you need to survive within arm's reach. Warm cozy blanket? Here, have four. I brought your pirate slippers with the googly eyes, too, to keep your feet snuggly. Big puffy pillow? Let me fluff it for you. Thirsty? Here's a sippy mug full of pineapple orange juice, there's an endless supply in the fridge, ring this little bell if you need more (I imagine those very words are being spoken in heaven on a regular basis). Tissues? I got you Kleenex, quilted, with lotion built right into each sheet. I'll even throw your snotty tissues away. Hug? No--gross, what are you trying to do, get us all sick?

It was quite an emotional dilemma, but through the magic of cheeseballs, I am miraculously and slowly nursing myself back to health.

Peace out,
H

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Cheese balls, or cheese puffs, are indeed magical. Originally discovered in the amazon by the indigenous inhabitants , these cheese-o-licious treats were once the food of the Inca rulers. The orange puffs were eaten during the celebration of the annual virgin sacrifices and were believed to ward off evil spirits. Some speculate however that the sacrifices were really overt attempts, by those in power, to prevent others from from consuming the difficult to find forest goody.

The Spanish conquistadors brought back samples of the golden cheesy treasure to the queen of Spain who immediately sequestered the royal cook and court apothecary until they could come up with a recipe/formula for replicating the airy treat. They eventually succeeded. Word was immediately sent to Spanish conquistadors who remained in the amazon that they destroy any remaining living species of the aptly named cheeseindus ballificus found in the Amazon basin.

Kept secret in the royal vault for centuries, the recipe was eventually smuggled out of Spain by English spies in the mid 1600s after hearing talk by the local sailors of the rumored treasure. One of these spies was among those who settled Plymouth Colony. His name was John Eliot.

Not wanting to be caught with the recipe in hand when he arrived there, he arranged to have it shipped over later, smuggled along with various sundries and supplies. A minute in the Plymouth Colony records mentions the receipt of a package of goods sent from Coopers' Hall, London in March of 1654, and received by a John Eliot. The parcel was marked in a peculiar manner which identified it from among the other packages contained in the consignment and which marks seem to be intended to represent the carpenter's square and compass. The symbol of the Free Masons.

Take a look at a dollar bill. Notice the circular "seals" on the front and the circular orbs on the back that contain the all seeing eye & pyramid, and the eagle? You guessed it. These are actually cheese balls representations.

The recipe was handed down over the years from one Mason president (Worshipful Master) to the next until Edward Wilson received it in 1939. Due to some kind of scandalous incident he was kicked out of the Freemasons and in a fit of revenge, stole the recipe and decided to manufacture and sell cheese balls, taking all the profits for himself. The rest as they say, is history.

Anonymous said...

there is nothing a good nap and cheese balls can't cure!

Anonymous said...

those backless paper shirts. I HATE those!

Ele at abitofpinkheaven said...

I'm with you on the pineapple orange juice! I applaud you on your "grown up" decision and always remember, Keens actually rule the world. Hope you are feeling better. They used to have backless paper gowns, now it's shirts...what next! Oh yeah, Mike the cheese ball historian worries me,just a little!

Ele at abitofpinkheaven said...

Can you add the subscription feed to your gadget sidebar? Then, I will have immediate status to your next entry. Be sure to add labels to your posts so the webcrawlers can pick you up!I know you are busy with your project, but if you have and creative time, the craft show (out here) is Nov. 21-22 AND Dec. 5-6. (I do have a few of your items left), but can always use more.

Ele at abitofpinkheaven said...

O.K., I figured out how to follow you WITHOUT you adding the subscription! (old aunts take awhile).

Gina said...

Happy new year.

Anonymous said...

Where have you been? I think it is time to get back on board with blogging!

mom