I never realized what an uninitiated medicine taker I am until this plague I have been harboring of late started to stick around for 8, 9, 10 days and counting.  I am less of a proactive symptom problem solver and more of a complainer, is the thing.  Sure I could take the Nyquil, but then WHAT WOULD I TWITTER ABOUT?  My “ignorance is an excuse for whining” approach started to reveal itself through several conversations I had about my cold, during which I would have just ramped up my diatribe against the Snot  Glacier that took just enough sleepless minutes to move from my right nostril to my left for me to feel uncomfortable enough to need to turn over and start the whole process over again when someone would interject to tell me I should just try X! It will clear that right on up!  And later when I do, I realize they were being really nice not to tack a big fat DUH onto the end of that sentence.  Because hey! There are these things called drugstores! And they’re on like every corner!  With shelves full of Snot Glacier remedies!  This is all very exciting and new to me.

I think I have a (naive?) belief that I can just get better on my own, no need to fool with my body chemistry, thanks. I can be passed out on the couch hacking up my spleen and still I think, “ME TARZAN. YOU COLD. TARZAN STRONGER THAN COLD.” But geez, this marathon germ party has had me singing a different tune.  Afrin? Mist me up! Nyquil? Slide it down my gullet! Advil? Two for me please, with a cough drop chaser!

The new one I had not tried until the development of the ever-attractive Body Wracking Cough was Mucinex.  It’s like this Ghostbuster drug: shakes everything loose and then vacuums it all up. Like magic, it is. And my cough had gotten to the point that I was ready to reach into my throat, pull my lungs out by the trachea and give them a good swipe with a sheet of Brawny to get rid of whatever it was that was so desperately and unsuccessfully trying to get out.  So one mention of the Mucinex and I was on board.

I took two in the morning and felt some relief during the next few hours, but as the day wore on into the afternoon, I noticed that I felt strung out and dried up.  Kind of like I had gulped down a venti latte sprinkled with silica.  This feeling hit its apex right around the time I had scheduled myself a hair cut. In the chair I could not stop awkwardly Over- Talking About Inappropriate Things to the stylist and yet also could not seem to focus my eyes on one spot for very long.  And on the list of “States You Probably Don’t Want To Be In Whilst Making Decisions About Your Appearance”, hopped up on cough expectorant/suppressants would definitely be in the top twenty, possibly the top ten.

Because Holy Split Ends, Batman – I chopped six or seven inches off my hair.  DUBYA TEE EFF? I kept looking at the floor towards the end of my cut thinking, “Man, it’s like they sheared a Shetland pony in here.  Ooh, lollipops!”

Only time will tell how I actually feel about this new look.  If I wake up tomorrow and recoil from the mirror in horror, I am going straight to the computer to compose my letter to the makers of Mucinex letting them know that their label needs to include a disclaimer for the new user:  WARNING – MAY CAUSE ALTERED STATE WHICH MAY AFFECT DECISION MAKING WHICH MAY CAUSE SIX TO EIGHT MONTHS OF BITCHINESS WHILE YOUR HAIR GROWS BACK OUT.

L asks that you pray for a miracle.