More drugs! More drugs!

Apparently the reason I feel so lousy is that I am actually not well. This is not what I want to hear from my doctor. I want him to tell me to stop being a big baby. I want him to tell me to take it like a man. I do not want him to run screaming from my x-rays, crying out, “It’s a cookbook!” I do not want him to throw his scrubs and gloves on the floor and start disinfecting them with a propane torch. Unfortunately, what I want does not count. My sinuses are in charge here, as they have ever been, and this little boy has reason not to put his head under water anytime in the near future (my excuse for not training for a triathlon — not being able to swim is not excuse enough for me). New antibiotics of a strength sufficient to frighten Cipro, and I should be off them sometime before I die. But at least today I feel like I could perform an activity that requires more cardio work than watching TV requires, which is a marked improvement.