Mr SS

An Eternity ago, I woke up with a mildly scratchy throat...and decided to leave it alone, maybe ignoring it would make it non-existent ....alas , Mr. Scratchy Sandpaper a.k.a. Mr. SS disagreed...and with all the injured pride of the unwanted pest , ignored my heated efforts (at 102^oC to 104^oC) to beat him into leaving....Ulimately my long suffering ,care-taking hubby, marched me to the hospital (read propped and propelled into the car ,out of the car) for some external ammo .However, since Mr. SS had commandeered my oesophagus and decided to permit extremely restricted movement of rations to the central pit, the said pit refused to retain the ammo and sent it back up the way it came, along with a lot of other things (some of which I don't recall sending down at all :( sigh..) and kept sending up...sigh...Paet Paet na raha....


After 48 hours of this battle royale , the doctors stepped in and I stepped out ...of home...to hospital (prison)...only to be let out on parole intermittently, as a special favour, for meals and baths ...Another 72 hours and countless injections later (believe me, I counted the seconds too )..here I am ...Mr SS has been kicked out with a vengeance and all that's left are the metallic remains (of the strong ammunition ) on my tongue...


Thanks to Mr SS I now realise how precious my home ,health and hubby are (not necessarily in that order;)