They say karma's a bitch, and I'm here as a witness to confirm that comment...
About two weeks ago my lovely (and dangerous) wife became ill with what we've come to expect twice a year around Chateau Squatlo. It starts off with some annoying coughing, then spreads to a full-blown Kleenex frenzy, followed by all kinds of bronchial problems, resulting in a visit to a doctor for a couple of antibiotic injections and a steroid pack. Twice a year. Like clockwork.
So when it started (hack-hack) I suggested, ever-so-gently, that she make an appointment and get a jump on the bug before the bug jumped her. She agreed, saw a doctor, got a couple of shots in the rump and some antibiotics. A week later she was even worse off, coughing and sneezing all night, throwing up, with diarrhea... a real bundle of joy to be around. I insisted she visit the doctor AGAIN, for some tests and another prescription, and she complied. She's almost back to her normal self, and 'wonderfulness' should be the word for the day.
But, at some point during all of this I made the following statement, out loud, in front of my wife and the ever-alert Hooey Gods:
"I haven't had so much as a head cold in over five years!"
Now I'm sick as a dog. Coughing, sneezing, and blowing massive amounts of mucous material from my nose in what can only be called A Fountain of Plenty.
I've been to the doctor, gotten the 'scripts, and have begun to see some relief in almost every aspect of this creeping crud, with one exception: I'm still blowing my nose every five minutes, and I don't mean I'm (sniff sniff) moistening a Kleenex. I could drown the creature from "Alien". Every five minutes.
And while I'm up, let me say a word or two about folks who can pull out one dainty little Kleenex from a dispenser, blow politely, dab a time or two with a folded corner, and toss it into the trash... clean as a whistle. I don't know how you people were blessed with this talent, but you should say a prayer of thanks for being able to handle things so easily.
Me? I need at LEAST two or three Kleenex, or I end up with a handful of snot. If I tried to blow my nose, in its current condition, using only one Kleenex, I'd end up looking like the money shot in a gay porn movie.
This isn't something one friggin' Kleenex is going to handle. And I don't know how people can do this without checking themselves in a mirror afterward, either. I need five minutes and half a roll of toilet paper to clean up after one of these eruptions, and nothing short of a visit to a bathroom would be socially acceptable on my part. You wouldn't want to see what I see after I blow my nose... trust me...
I'm considering a blast up each nostril from a propane torch.