Some nasty virus lurks in my bronchia. The bird dog to route it out is Amoxic/clav. Or so I expect. It is awesome to imagine a drug - an active little chemical - invading my system to attack another piece of energy causing pain in my chest. Except it is not invading. I willingly put it into my stomach with a sandwich and apple juice (to prevent side effects of nausea and diarrhea) and sent it on its way.

Imagine this little chemical dogging its way through my gastric juices, struggling through my liver or along the lining of my small intestine to become adsorbed into my blood on its way to find the culprit causing my discomfort. Will it sniff its way to its target? I hope so. As much as I stay clear of dogs, I expect it to do a comparable job, chew up and eliminate my adversary.

I developed very uncomfortable cold symptoms.. I blew what seemed to be cupfuls of mucous out my nose. I coughed up more of the same. When I coughed my torso was wracked with pain. So off I trudged to the clinic to see what could be done about it.

With no appointment I had to wait in line. A man in black, a horrible color in view of my bleak outlook on life at the moment, beckoned me into the inner sanctums of the clinic. Weight and vital signs were taken with the mumbled results barely audible. I suppose I didn't need to know my blood pressure was 138 over 68 or that my temperature was 99.4 but I didn't appreciate the mumbling. Maybe he was unpaid, overworked, or worse yet, plain bored. I felt little respect from this nurse in black. But he soon left me alone to study charts of the digestive system, the circulatory system and the heart. I was intrigued with the spinal bone design. If I had a photographic memory I could be an encyclopedia.

An hour later and nearly $100 poorer I put in motion the first of twenty 875 mg of hot diggity dog protectors. I gave up chicken soup, steaming vapors, and gargling salts to embrace the modern way. Let specialized chemistry take over.

Sic 'em Rover.


Naomi Sherer