Hania and I met by the NyQuil bottle last night.
"You know it's 10% alcohol," she informed me.
"Whoopee," I said, putting down the emptied cup.
I should have said, "Sante."
I've been getting up repeatedly during the night, so I'm used to seeing darkness outside, but this morning it was dark at 8 am. The rain is continuing the impression that the night hasn't yet passed. I hope my infection realizes that it's now daytime, when it should start acting with a little more civility.
Went to bed at 10 last night and woke up with an earache at what felt like 5 but was only midnight. My nose, which had been running all day like it had for the last five days, was having a crisis of confidence: keep running or go the stuffed-up route? Let's try both! Happily, the flow was not fast and warm, which I've come to recognize as blood. Happily, I slept straight through to 7 o'clock. Earache gone. Nose though shows no sign of quitting.
'Whom' is so often replaced by 'who' these days that I was beginning to think the pronoun might become obsolete. But, on the front page of the Miami Herald's sports section this morning, I saw my first example of 'whom' ungrammatically replacing 'who'. It was in the reader, or sub-head, to the story about the Dolphins' new acquisition: "With Ryan Tannehill out indefinitely, Miami coach Adam Gase has been reunited with quarterback Jay Cutler, whom agreed to a one-year deal ..."
When my dermatologist told me I could use a cream to treat the “superficial” cancer on my nose, I was delighted. Over the years he had already inflicted stitches on other parts of my face and, for some reason, I was sensitive about the nose.
I started the treatment July 10. The middle of my nose gradually turned red and, about a week ago, crusty. Last night – with only three more nights to go – I developed flu-like symptoms, one of the possible side effects of the cream. Stuffed nose, cough, chills. This morning I had a slight fever. And of course an unsightly nose. Next time I’m going with the knife.