Cure for what ails you

I have recently learned that I am neither immortal nor invincible. And I'm not immune to the microscopic organisms that can kick a relatively healthy guy's ass like he was the 100 lb. weakling in the first frame of a Charles Atlas ad.

For those of you that don't visit my personal site (don't worry, I'm not hurt that you can't just move your mouse to the right and click on "Warren" - nope not at all) I had my ass handed to me over a five day period which finally put me in the hospital. I got sick and thought, "Eh, it's just a brutal cold bordering on the flu or some such. Let me just chase this fistful of Advil with this highball of Jameson and I'll be fine." Yeah, not so much. On day five of this regimen, after actually having gone to work for four hours, I carried my sorry ass to the E.R. for a professional opinion of my self-diagnosis: wicked bad fuckin' cold and an upset tummy.

The doctor's diagnosis? "Mr. Johnson you have AIDS." Damn, sorry, probably shouldn't launch into an old Eddie Murphy routine during a relatively serious post. Nope, actual diagnosis was pneumonia and anemia brought on by an ulcer the size of a softball. Yes, that's what happens with self-medicating. But it was, overall, an eye-opening experience and served as a great learning opportunity.

What did I learn, you ask? Let me tell you. If you have a raging fever for more than a day or two, you might want to see someone about it: adult with fever=bad, bad, bad. You especially might want to see someone when your wife suggests you see someone. If you're a parent (and I assume most of you are given this blog's overall theme) you must remember that there are others who depend on you, therefore selfishness is not an option - (refer to what to do when wife suggests something). And, finally, I learned that any vestigial remains of my invincible and immortal 22-year-old self have long since gone the way of the dodo and Joaquin Phoenix's sanity.