A letter to the tickle in my throat

(current nightstand situation)

Dear Tickle In My Throat,

You are the worst. You are stealing hours of my life. You are stealing my sleep. You are stealing my ability to speak. I have to sleep in the guest room because of you. I also have to cross my legs every blessed time I cough because I never know how violent the attack will be and I don’t want to risk tee-teeing myself (thanks, kids). You are the absolute worst. I’m ready to break up with you. We had a good run and I thought 2 weeks was long enough. And just when I thought you were gone for good, you came back. You came back with a vengeance, you little punk. You know I have a trip coming up that’s been on the books for months. So I’ve decided, you are not the boss of me. I am coming at you with everything I’ve got. I’ll see your waking up hacking in the middle of the night and I’ll raise you hot tea with lemon, melatonin, and honey. And I’ll see your raspy voice and raise you cough drops with honey and menthol. You hear that? MENTHOL! And guess what else? I went to one of those juice places today and had them make me some concoction of lemon, honey, pineapple, and cayenne pepper. I felt that sucker all the way down to my toes! I keep hearing I need to “coat my throat” and apparently the way you do that is with lemon or honey. It got me thinking…honey’s basically sugar, right? I’ve been neglecting sugar because sweet Tummy-Tum is in a fight with her but these are desperate times! Maybe I NEED the sugary sweetness to get over you, Tickle. Maybe a lemon meringue pie would do the trick? I mean, it’s lemon and apparently that’s a common denominator in all these “natural” remedies. Or maybe a lemon iced cookie. Where could I find one of those so I don’t have to make it myself? Hmmm…

Tickle, I think you might be altering my mental state. Maybe you actually ARE the boss of me. I need you to pack your bags and find a new place to live. My chest muscles literally can’t keep doing this. They are tired. I am TIRED. I need uninterrupted sleep. Let’s face it: I’m not in my twenties waking up with newborns anymore. I can’t function on a few hours of sleep. I used to think I could run the country if I could get 4 consecutive hours. Those days are gone! I need at least 6, 7 if you want dinner on the table. So I’m begging you, leave me be, wretched Tickle. You are no longer welcome here.

Sincerely,

My irritated throat

UPDATE::

Tickle actually turned out to be THE FLU! And let me tell you something, the flu is THE WORST AND IT WAS TOTALLY THE BOSS OF ME. It’s my first time to ever have it but, jeez louise, I’ll have a lot more sympathy for people who get it from now on. The muscle aches, the coughing, the chills, it’s awful. And yes, I had to miss my trip with the hubs because of that stupid virus. Luckily my mom was already here to watch the kids so she took care of them and me. Dontcha just love moms? They’re the best. Anyhoo, so far January 2017 hasn’t been my favorite. I feel like I’ve been hacking up a lung for most of it so I’ll be delighted when it’s over. Bring on February!

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