MUGGED BY A BLOB

This morning I reread the beginnings of the post I meant to produce (about the concept of “race” being used to generate arousal, which American crave) and had to stop. Maybe I can work on the post later, but what I saw was the effects of this now-waning bout of something unnamed or diagnosed, resulting in my pharynx being filled with mucus to the point of shutting off breathing. I was coughing so hard and continuously that it became paroxysms and near paralysis, almost blackout.

It was not Covid. I’m vaccinated and I could still smell cats. I suspect is one of fellow-traveling afflictions like flu or sinus infection or ear ache. (There is a feline parallel and a couple of the cats have drippy noses and sneeze too much.) Finally in the back of my medicine cupboard I found some paired red pills in bubbles that were labeled “Mucus Relief Severe Cold” and they worked. By now I’m off the chemicals and have revived my neti pot, which is a means of washing out one’s nasal cavities with mild warm saline solution. If I’d done this all along, I might not have gotten sick.

But the point is what this week long struggle has done to my writing, my thinking, my mind. It’s all full of skips and ghosts. Most of the spelling is okay but the grammar in terms of maintaining parallel structure or clear referents is sometimes baffling. So this is a notation both to myself and others, to mark it, so I can think about it more when my head clears more and even share thinking about it.