Ahem, anyway, here's the status. Things are doing much better. I was able to hobble down stairs unassisted and finally work in my den on some computer problems I was having. My lungs haven't gotten clogged, much in thanks to Christine's care, my attempt at common sense, and thedreamymoon's cold tea. I think I might just win this without resorting to anti-biotics.
I am amazed at my body's ability to heal. When I was a kid, this was source of much frustration and morbid fascination. I used to be into what they now call "SI," or self-injury. I used to hurt myself on purpose as part of some freakish control thing, because physical pain was so soothing compared to my emotional pain, I guess. I used to cut and stab myself, and watched as the wounds healed. I liked having scars and scabs, some of which I carry to this day (I used to stab myself with pencils, and sometimes the leads broke off - so now I have little dot tattoos). But what always got me was how quickly I healed. In comparison, my classmates always seemed to get broken bones, bad scars, and heavy sickness. Until I was on my own, I got maybe sick once a year, usually an ENT infection, and maybe a minor cold or two, but that was about it. As much as I was beat up, my bruises healed quickly, my cuts could go away in as little as 2 days (depending on depth), and I only have a few scars to prove my life as a child had its dangers (pencil marks, two cut knuckles, a few deep stab mark, and a skinned knee).
My friends, especially, were a sickly lot. Many had mono at one time or another, and almost all of them had a tale of some sort where a bone got broken, usually more than once. Almost all my friends were medicated, took weird vitamins, or had strange allergies. My friend Steve, for instance, was sick I think 2-3 days a week. He had mono twice. Twice! I joked mono twice is stereo. He was not amused, as he coughed into his trademark blood-spattered cloth (just kidding). I think every one of my friends in high school had glasses also, or needed them.
I have never broken a bone. Well, I might have broke my little toe a few years ago, but I never went to the doctor about it, and just taped it, so I am not sure if it ever broke. When I couldn't walk on this foot, I thought, "Oh, God, it's broken." So did the people at the hospital, who poked at a huge bump on my ankle as a "protruding bone." Only it wasn't. See, I have these weird bumps on the top of both feet, symmetrical, which look like another ankle bone (like you have on the side of you ankle). I never give them much thought, although whenever I was barefoot around my friends, they'd point them out. "What's that?" I don't know. Soft and fleshy, they don't hurt. Well, the people at the hospital didn't believe me, and poked at them with a pen or something, thinking I'd probably go, "YEEEOOOWW!!!" because, and I am only guessing, that is what one does when a protruding broken bone is poked at with a pen. But it just went into my foot like a pillow and I felt nothing, and they went, "Huh..." Anyway, everyone was sure my foot was broken until they took x-rays. Not even a hairline fracture. The nurse on call moved my foot around, and said it was a really bad sprain, all my ligaments seemed to be in the right place, and that was that.
I suspect I'll be back in order slightly after Katsucon.
What scars do you guys have?