I write this post 2 shots and 3 prescriptions later......and to inform you that I did not die from Dad's elixir.....

• I'm thinking I should have requested for some real shooters.....instead of shots. Jell-0 shooters, maybe. I love some good jell-o. But I even tire of it, after having orange jell-0 as my side dish to chicken broth while in the hospital last month, for every meal.

So, if you followed the road trip of '09 from last week, you may or may not have read that I was sickly while traveling. If you stayed in the Country Inn and Suites outisde Cincinnati or Dayton for any of that time, I'm certain you heard that I was sick, whether you read the blog or not. Because clearly, the bronchial tubes I have can express sound vibrations that almost replicate a sonic boom. Almost. So, maybe you folks near Wright-Patterson Air Force base have grown accustomed to such obnoxious noises, and my extreme coughing spells did nothing for your numb ears......but, to the rest of hallway 301-326.....I apologize.

• I went to see the doctor today. Finally. After two weeks of the consumption, I gave in and sought real medical help. Clearly, Temple and his doctoring skills were not getting the job done. I went to my favorite little doc-in-a-box---where the staff and I have become close friends as they have seen me quite frequently for the last two months. I settled in to my paper covered bed table and waited for the Doctor's arrival. Only a few minutes passed, and he arrived, white coat and all. Because you know, despite popular belief, they are real doctors, and thus can wear the white coat with honor. We talked about all the symptoms, the chameleon like abilities for my mucus to change colors, yada, yada, yada. And he asked about the length of the illness. I wanted to shout, oh I've been crazy for about 30 years now, but I realized he was referring to this present junk in my chest, head, & throat, so I repressed the desire to speak of the mental issues.

So, the duration of this illness. I quietly said, "it's been two weeks now". Instantly, I felt like I needed to clarify why in the sam hill I would wait to be treated.....and always one for honesty, I blurted out....."you see, we were traveling on spring break with our kids last week, taking them to states they have never seen before, and I'm just not sure I trust yankee doctors, so then I've been busy getting settled back in at home, and that brings me to today and why I'm here to see you, because this stuff is still hanging on....."

And I've never loved my doc-in-a-box anymore than in that moment when he stopped writing on my chart and looked up at me and smiled...."I just don't trust yankees, period." See, there are those in the world who understand me.....his main residency must have been in psychology.

• Anyway, I do have bronchitis and an infection which may or may not have been the result of the flu. The nice nurse came in to give me two shots. The first lasted about 13 minutes.....dang, that thing was filled with molasses that took forever to flow into my bloodstream. Of course, she pierced me through my backside.....thus it could have took so long because of all the fat cells it had to get past.

And I left with a prescription for 3 drugs. 3 legal drugs. I only clarify that because I have been asked at home by Temple and my mother to take some "illegal" medicine. In the form of my Dad's homemade cough elixir. It's homemade, and all I can say is it doesn't have an expiration date. That stuff is so stout, I bet it could have outlived Methusaleh and his 969 years. And it may have, if I hadn't seen my Daddy mix it up before my very eyes this past winter. I've seen him mix some up for folks, even letting them choose their flavor, kind of like watching kids in Baskin-Robbins. There are those who favor the honey-lemon, and still others, the classic peppermint. And I have always encouraged those who are almost disabled from their bronchial spasms, to 'drink it up'....it will certainly cure what ails you....or kill you trying.....either way, you will stop coughing. But that has always been from the sidelines....I've never had to be the one who had to take a shot of the hard stuff.

That scenario changed on Saturday night. When we arrived back home last weekend, after our travels stateside, Temple insisted on curing my coughing spells, and brought back in the bottle of cough suppressant in question. Then this sideline cheerleader became the man in the ring with the spotlight on my cough. Temple made claims that he couldn't afford to be kept up at night by my hacking.....which is a complete joke. A complete joke. While in the hotel, I coughed so long, so hard, so much.....and no one moved a muscle. I even WOKE him up one morning at 4:30 to inform him I was leaving to go scald my throat nerves with hot coffee. He barely mumbled, and it was nothing remotely coherent.

• However, to appease him, I tried taking Dad's mixture before bedtime. I tried taking a swallow of the homemade knock-out punch, kept in a not so discreet bottle.......and I only survived one tiny swig. And Lord, help me, I have no idea how my body survived the 90's......where I actually paid money and called it f.u.n. to throw back shots of all manner of liquids that could be made into a homemade elixir. Because Saturday night.....I think my first layer of muscle was scorched right off my epiglottis when those droplets of home brewed robitussin hit.

Today, I've never been happier to see the CVS pharmacy girl bring that brown bottle of manufactured cough syrup to the window with a sticker that says "may cause drowsiness"..... because clearly, my days wrangling with the hard stuff are over. Or at least next time I'm trying the peppermint flavor.......and asking for a chaser.