Thursday, February 14, 2008

Why I Heart Apple Juice

Yesterday I had a little run in with some dust. Well, more like a 50 car pile up.

He're the deets. I got to work and noticed that the office was in serious need of some dustbusting and I provided. And promptly after the good deed came the punishment. My throat completely closed up. In bear trap fashion it snapped shut and wouldn't even open to my raccoon-skin cap Daniel Boone-like strength. I could breathe fine but could swallow nothing. Not a drop of water. AND to top it off with rich velvety buttercream, my body's natural defenses went to DEFCON 5 and immediately started to produce copious amounts of a clear viscous liquid. I felt like I was in an airport security line: choking on my own defenses.

After 58 trips to the bathroom, 10 hiccup hoedowns, 3 attempts to sprinkle antihistamines under my tongue (bitter, bitter, nastiness), 2 resolutions to go to the emergency room, and 1 hot bath, I fell asleep. I was sure I was gonna drown as my own zealous immune system kept finding untapped sources of phlegm.

But never fear! I woke and felt like Tutankhamen must feel when he rises to politely choke archaeologists - cranky, creaky and made of dust. I've never been so dehydrated. I lurched to the fridge, poured a tall, cold glass of apple juice, put it to my lips and paused. What if I still couldn't swallow? My mind rapidly went through a delightful scenario with a trip to the hospital tended by the pigfaced nurses from the Twilight Zone who forcefully ram a stint down my throat. I shuddered and delicately sipped..... Heaven. Gloriously cool bliss. This wasn't apple juice! Somebody must have switched it with liquid gold!

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