Been a tough week here. Saw the doc on Tuesday and he put me through the whole sinusitis regimen of daily saline washes, nasal steroids, decongestants, mucous thinners, and of course, antibiotics. I've taken clarithromycin before, but this time it just seems to be tearing up my guts, giving me heartburn and a sour stomach. Interestingly enough, the times I took it before it was the real pharmaceutical company deal, but it's now available in a generic form. Never had the gut problems with the original, but the generic copy is not sitting well. Just something to think about when people say there's no difference.
Oh, and the drug makes you think a possum crawled into your mouth and died—two weeks ago. Yuck! Oh well, that's what you get when you live in Sinusitis Central here in SW Ohio. Doesn't matter if it's the city or the country around here, it's just hard on people. When I lived in California I never met a single person who complained about sinus problems, but here it's rare to meet someone who doesn't have that puffy look around the eyes. C'est la vie!
So your prayers are still appreciated in that regard. I can't remember being so rundown. Wisdom may come with aging, but so does the realization that the eighteen-year old guy with the chip on his shoulder could probably take you down pretty easily now. Ten years ago would have been a different issue, but I know that I hit the wall hard at 41. Forty was okay and I thought I was in the clear, but something changed at 41. Weird stuff, man.
Treasure your youth! Travel the world and get out of town. See the sights while you're young. Once kids come around and your sleep becomes precious, well it's a whole 'nother ballgame.
Then, of course, there's the other way of thinking: marry young, have kids young, empty nest by forty and then do the sightseeing. The nineteen year-old from our church who comes in once a week to help get the laundry and household in tip-top shape for the weekend told me late last year that her dad had a birthday. When I asked how old he was, she said, "Forty." So her dad's younger than me, which makes me old enough to have a nineteen year old daughter. With the three years I've got on him, I could have a 22-year old daughter for that matter. My five-year old son throws my thinking off kilter, I guess. Realizing you're old enough to have a kid out of college already really messes with your head.
My gauge used to be that I was not old as long as there were guys my age still playing football. This last birthday may have sealed my fate on that one, though. I think Warren Moon was still in the league at my age, but none of the guys today are that ancient.
Am I whining? It's 2:30 AM as I type and the decongestants got every nerve in my body wired. Sleep ain't comin' anytime soon. And here I am thinking that Cerulean Sanctum reaches its nadir with this post, folks.
Well, look at it this way: it can only get better, right?
May the Lord grant that all of us be better people next week (and into the future) than we are now. I know I'm counting on that. Maybe wisdom at the expense of a few aching body parts isn't so bad.
Have a great weekend!
Tags: Illness, Age, Kids, Youth