Sinusitis and Shower Power.

I am feeling sorry for myself. True MM tradition dictates that whatever can go wrong will invariably do so at the wrong time, and my health is no exception to the rule: bugs equipped with their equivalent of blaring music, ice boxes, barbecues and gazebos moved stealthily into their comfy new quarters in my sinuses on Sunday evening and have been partying there ever since. It is a bank holiday weekend: nuff said. MM has a head like a lead balloon. Any tilting movement makes me feel like it is going to fall off and crash to the ground, before rolling along like Marie-Antoinette’s bonce on her worst day ever on the Place de la Revolution.

Having sinusitis is a little like having a massive hangover, but without having had the pleasure of getting drunk first.  Let’s just say that my head has been hurting for the last 24 hours. It is sitting on my shoulders, a huge, heavy bowling ball of throbbing pain. My eyes are standing out on sticks like wobbly martian antennae. My nose feels like it is auditioning for a role in Cyrano de Bergerac, and I could swear that my upper teeth are making a bid for freedom, like a herd of enamel horses trying to escape from their reinforced slime enclosure as an out-of tune rendition of Black Beauty is played in the background. I would love to be able to let off some of the pressure in my plumbing, but the taps are welded shut. As my kids would say, “Snot fair”. Quite literally.

Yet this morning, in true MM mode, I was determined not to let my day be wrecked by the lousy bunch of bacteria whooping it up non-stop within my facial piping. I almost imagine them as cute little one-eyed midgets in stripey PJ’s; the evil, bacterial side-kicks of Ken Dodd’s diddy men. Giggling evilly, they are clanging on my twisting facial tubes with miniature, bacteria-sized spanners, and bouncing their offspring up and down on my nerve endings, booting at the inflamed tissue with their bovver boot-clad feet. (I hasten to add at this point that I have only taken aspirin. Honest.)

A shower is a great way to wake up and get your ideas into synch. I shuffled into the bathroom for a shower, determined to make the most out of the beautiful, sunny day that had greeted my puffy eyes when I opened the shutters. I would emerge a new woman: beautiful, germ-ridden and ready for a day in that beautiful sunlight.

Some people sing in the shower, and some people scrape the dead skin off their feet with their finger nails. (Honestly. I saw someone doing this in a public swimming pool, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to drown him or run.) Others dream of their Prince or Princess Charming, winning the pools, writing a block-bluster or walking into the garage to find that someone else has cleaned it up and neatly organised the winter shoes into labelled boxes. (All the aforementioned is true for me – except for the Prince Charming, because I locked him up in the tower years ago and have been exploiting him for attention, beer and chocolate ever since.)

English: shower head Deutsch: Duschkopf mit st...

I bet that Winston Churchill made up his best speeches under the shower. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I give myself pep talks in the shower – I coach myself up for my day. Imagine the Rocky equivalent of motherhood with less body hair than Sly Stallone, armed with a bottle of shower gel rather than a machine gun and sporting flabby sidecars on her hips instead of muscle on her arms.

I review everything I need to get ironed out, organised, stopped, started and otherwise dealt with, and for the time that I am under that generous stream of hot water, anything and everything is possible. Life is easy, peasy, lemon squeezy. I am invincible under that shower head, armed with my optimism, my supermarket razor and Bigfoot’s shaving foam. I have even discovered the parallel between washing your hair in the shower and putting on weight. Haven’t you?  It’s simple. It’s clearly mentioned on the bottle that the shampoo gives you “extra body”. It cannot be a coincidence – after years of the stuff running down my body on its way to the plug hole, it has worked. My rear end and thighs have slowly progressed to plumper proportions. Think about it, and wash your hair in the sink next time. Or go for the stuff that says it straightens hair instead – the worst that can happen is to end up with a butt flatter than Jane Birkin’s chest.

Gorilla Scratching Head

MM scratched her head. How could that volume boosting shampoo not only have increased hair growth, but also weight gain? (Photo credit: Wikipedia) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Anyway. I digress. Back to our sheep, as they say in France. The hot water and I listed all the important and not so important things I would accomplish today. MM in the shower is an unstoppable force who could solve the Isreali-Palestinian conflict with no more than a deftly aimed spurt of shampoo and a lick of supermarket conditioner as the bath toys look on in admiration. Mountains and mole hills were thus put back in their respective places, and the ruffles of life were smoothed away by the beating warm water. A timetable was drawn up for MM’s busy day. Translations, bills, shopping, kids, cars, cleaning…. Although my head remained fuzzy, the day’s horizon cleared in synch with the diminishing velcro on my shins. Things were looking up. The day was promising.

Then someone knocked on the door. The razor slipped. Our mater familias par excellence bent her head to stem the bleeding on her shin, and swore as the blocked piping complained and her head hurt. I looked through puffy eyes out of the window at the sunny weather outside. Hell, things could be worse…..  This could at least provide a strange and pointless post for my blog. My readers now know that I wash on a regular basis….. pass the aspirin.

44 thoughts on “Sinusitis and Shower Power.

    • 😀 I actually managed to get sunburn on top of the sinusitis – weather back to cloudy and grey today, so you can be sympathetic again. I’d like a slice of that orange cake, please…. I’m now red and puffy-faced – which was all to my advantage to get an appointment with the doctor for this afternoon….

  1. Oh poor you! Sinusitis on a sunny Bank Holiday, that’s not right. I’m intrigued by your shower power though.

    I tend to have conversations like that with myself while I’m driving to work. The only problem is, as soon as a put my head through the lab doors, everything in my head flies away. I think it’s known as the Boundary Effect, or ‘shit what did I want to do before I came in here…?’

  2. Oh, poor MM. Sinusitis is horrible. 😦 I do hope the doctor gives you something to banish it quickly. Still, silver linings and all that – it’s given you the chance to demonstrate that you can write extraordinarily well about absolutely anything. 🙂

  3. OUCH! I’ve been there it is not nice. Long before I was a builder’s labourer I was an air stewardess (where did it all go wrong?). I had a 3 day stopover in St. Lucia propped up in bed with pillows unable to move or even lay down to sleep. I hear it’s a beautiful place!
    What amazes me is you still write a great piece even when you are feeling like stink! Hayfever next!

    • You were an air hostess??? Wow, that’s a dramatic change of plan! So was my cousin – she described herself as a “trolley dolly”, and gave up when she realised that she suffered from vertigo 🙂
      I don’t think that planes are good places for people who get sinus problems. What a shame to have spent all that time in Paradise… in bed! I’m off to the doc’s this afternoon; she told me that she didn’t have any space left, then I reminded her that I was twice as big as her, English, and had a very sore head. Bingo. Appointment 🙂

    • Thanks 😀 Back from the docs with proof that my face is unrecognisable: the trainee doc called me “Monsieur”. I don’t know which of us was more embarassed. But Housten, we have antibiotics and cortisone…

  4. You sure the doc calling you “Monsieur” is the right doctor to visit ?
    Why didn’t you try this simple thing before going to him : eliminate your headache by getting real drunk ? Like in French grammar, two negations equal an affirmation….
    Hope you’ll recover soon,

    • I’m putting it down to the fact that she is small, so only saw my trousers and my pullover. She realised her mistake when she looked up at my face (without make-up, as per usual). If I get real drunk, I’ll probably throw up on poor old PF, and that wouldn’t be fair. I’ll wait till I feel better, then we can get drunk together. Get the beer in the fridge, Papounet 🙂

  5. Hangover without pleasure of being drunk first… I know what you mean. As I started getting older I found I didn’t get the same amount of buzz out of drinking a few beers, but still got the resulting hangover.

  6. Poor you! Have the antibiotics kicked in yet? Had Sinusitis when I was a child, it was awful, still remember it vividly! I am amazed that you have still managed to write so hillariously well while feeling so rubbish! 😀 The dead skin scraping in the public swimming pool shower has definitely put me off any public showers!!! 😦

    • Still early days for the drugs to kick in; I’m knocking back jaffa cakes and aspirin till they do (Jaffa cakes are the only comfort food that doesn’t make too much noise when I chew). Writing and laughter are my buoyancy aids when the going gets tough… “when you’re sinking, get thinking…. grab a pen and start again”. Or Something like that… Pass the Jaffa’s.

      • Does it hurt to laugh? Keep knocking back the Jaffa’s… can’t think of anything else that’s as scrummy but not crunchy… I’ve just had three and I don’t have illness as an excuse to munch but they’re so moorish! I’m sending you well wishes through the blogsphere! 😀

      • It does, but it’s good therapy. It may just disloge some of the little buggers, who knows? Thanks for the well wishes (hope I didn’t shower you with crumbs there…). Hugs right back atcha, germ-free!

  7. Ah the events that give us inspiration for our posts!
    Hope you get over it all soon, sinusitis is most definitely not pleasant. Mind yourself, and may you be well enough to get a real hangover soon.

  8. I spent all Labor Day Weekend indoors watching too much TV and trying to kill the head cold. I sympathize. My nose mostly takes air normally now, thanks to a brand new neti pot I purchased for myself and the magic proper salt used in the rinsing concoction. This wonderful stuff called ALKOLOL, the bottle looks like the typical hydrogen peroxide brown bottle, works wonders as well, int he neti pot, but my gosh, never use it straight at the instructions advise! WOW that feels like a minty universe shot into your brain and continues to try to blast through your eyes and skull.

    May you be already healed and ready to tell us another fantastic tale through your unique and entertaining perspective, as always. Cheers!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s