Monday 4 February 2008

Why hello there, February

Midway through last week the swollen gland in my neck turned into the Mystery Virus of Doom. I slept in between bouts of symptom-googling (I had glandular fever, tonsillitis, sleeping sickness, rheumatic fever, quinsy, dropsy, pansy and possibly consumption), and then I slept a bit more. Bernhilde swept down from the north like an avenging health fairy, wheeled my bed out into the sun, and fed me medicinal doses of fried cheese. And lo! I wake up today feeling as spry as a new-mown puppy. I'm writing up my testimonial for St Bernhilde's Mobile Sanatorium as we speak.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

A new mown puppy! Then my plan worked. I know you didn't have your camera out and about this weekend so I've arranged this pic for you:

http://dartmed.dartmouth.edu/fall05/images/beyond_nightingale_16.jpg

Now if only we can arrange for one of those drag kings whose pictures we saw at the Arts Centre to fall ill. I'd nurse Rocco D'amore back to health any day!

TimT said...

I had no idea that Hyperborean Bernhilde mowed so many puppies. For all her furtive puppy-mowing habits, I shall look upon her henceforth with a new respect.

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

Very wise, Timble. He who doth not look upon Bernhilde with a new respect doth verily mumble mumble.

As for the drag kings, I'm sure they're subject to all sorts of maladies, Bernhilde. Accidental inhalation of moustache fibres, allergic reactions to y-fronts, putting a little too much oomph into the chest binding. If ever a subculture needed a nurse!

Martin Kingsley said...

I'm glad to hear that the Gland (TM, Pty. Ltd) did not engulf your brilliant mind, and that you are recovered/ing.

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

Thanks, Martin. I grew quite attached to my Gland.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this Gland!

Or something.

TimT said...

Gland of Hope and Glory!

JahTeh said...

Enquiring mind here. Was it the detox or the stickydate delicious that did for you?

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

Swollen Gland 08 and the detox-pudding fest are completely unrelated. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.