Side Effects – Boyleing Points
Stopping here is like tuning into a TV show – I’ve got to remind viewers what happened last week because what I write isn’t exactly memorable. So anyway, the doctor tells me I probably have some infection and don’t worry “98 out 100 times” there’s no need to operate.
What causes this infection in the large intestine? No one really knows. And then he says, it’s an old wives’ tale that peanuts or other nuts and seeds settle in there and cause the problem. But it’s just a wives’ tale.
Do I confess to him that in the airport the night before my stomach pain started I wolfed down a family-sized bag of peanuts? And when I say family-sized I mean a family of elephants.
I bought the sack of peanuts and threw it over my shoulder thinking it’d be a good snack throughout the 3-day trip to Florida. My son likes peanuts, he’d help me make a dent.
The flight was supposed to take off around 6:30 but, big shock, it was delayed. We hadn’t eaten dinner and we were stuck in that should-we or shouldn’t-we try to eat before getting on the plane. My son said he wasn’t all that hungry while chomping into a Salty & Sweet granola bar.
I opened the suitcase of Planter’s peanuts and grabbed my first handful.
This would be my dinner. I’ll skip the peanuts on the plane.
I really should have gotten a plate and a knife and fork because I just kept going like it was it was Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet. Finally, the Jetblue guy announced something about the plane just arriving and that they’d have to clean it before boarding. Time for another handful. Peanuts are a healthy option and I’m just being extra healthy.
And then I realize I better keep eating : this bag of peanuts is too big for carry-on. So I kill the whole bag. I figure the worst that could happen is I’ll have a bad dream about George Washington Carver.
Turns out, I prove the old wives’ tale true. I get some kind of bug that 98 times out 100 doesn’t require surgery. 98 out of 100, like I said last week,
are not the kind of odds I like. I’m hoping the antibiotics work before I’m disemboweled.
I turn on the TV hoping to take my mind off an operation that I’m starting to think is a done deal. I never win anything but this’ll be the one time they call my number.
So some commercial comes on about some new pill. It’s a 60 second commercial with 55 seconds devoted to the possible side effects. You got toe fungus? There’s a pill for that. You’ll have beautiful toenails but you might suffer from diarrhea, vomiting, high fever, dizziness, vision problems and severe depression. In some cases this wonder drug has been known to cause cardiac arrest or suicidal thoughts. In other words, if you live, –IF—your toes will look great.
Oh boy. I Google the drugs I’ve been prescribed. Do not drink alcohol (even if a crush of family shows up for Thanksgiving). Possible side effects include a long list of unpleasant things including hallucinations and paranoia – which might explain why I see a seven-foot peanut on my front lawn and I think it’s staring at me.
What ever happened to take two aspirin and call me in the morning?
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