Strange to say, I’m almost relieved that after six months of tests and failures to listen to the patient, my doctors think I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS), a special feature of E. coli. The relief comes from thinking it was something worse. The failure to listen to the patient comes from not hearing me say, “This is an infection, so stop testing for other stuff while the months go by without any treatment.” (It’s not like pushing for an antibiotic is like pushing for fentanyl.)
E. coli is often called the traveler’s disease since people often pick it up by eating or making market purchases at unsanitary places. So, did I get it traveling between the front door and the mailbox or from infected grocery store produce bought here in town? Nobody knows. Maybe the cat brought it into the house. (Bad kitty!)
A bottle of Xifaxan costs $270. That means insurance doesn’t cover it. Well, if it works, it’s worth it. The only problem is that IBS really has no cure so I’ll probably need to manage it with meds until the cows come home.
I wash everything from the produce department from salad greens to baking potatoes. My mother did it, so I do it.
I don’t eat at disreputable restaurants or drink bad whisky at biker bars.
Bottom line, I’ll probably never know where the E. coli came from. I envy the people who can eat weird food from off-grid places and never get sick.
So, if the diagnosis turns out to be correct and the meds work then 2024 will begin as a happy New Year. I hope your New Year begins on a happy note as well. Maybe a new job, a new novel, an escape from prison, finding stolen money in the basement. It’s all good.
There’s a game show on TV called “Snake Oil” in which contestants try to figure out which of the products they’re shown are real and which are snake oil. Goodness knows, that before the FDA was created, a lot of people made a lot of money selling patent medicine, otherwise known as snake oil.
I found driving at night to be great therapy in part against the sturm und drang of high school and college English departments that I thoroughly detested for treating students as third-world folks who didn’t grow up speaking English. I had no tolerance for their methods and could always use a glass of Mateus, a dry red wine from Portugal that young people drank like water in those days. I graduated to Pinot Noir and Red Zinfandel as I grew older.
Theodora Goss is one of my favourite authors, so I find a lot to ponder when she steps away from her fantasy fiction and poetry and writes an essay or blog post.
I hear about people who run five miles before going to work. They feel better for running and love the kind of tired it brings. Getting up early enough to run and then take a shower before arriving at work on time makes me feel tired. That is, making it happen is a lot of tedious trouble.
“Swill,” by the way, is a magnum (1.5-liter) bottle of grocery store wine that sells for around ten bucks. I refuse to buy the so-called standard 750ml bottle because it’s a bad value in terms of price. Bring me a bottle of Pinot Noir and I’ll be happy. Sea Smoke Southing Pinot Noir will do nicely because it tastes great and is way outside my budget.
My favorite Scotch is single malt Talisker, heavy on the peat and the smoke with a great slogan on their website: “On the shores of the Isle of Skye, where rugged coastlines meet the raging sea, you find adventure in a bottle. Talisker single malt scotch whisky captures the elemental wildness and unadulterated beauty of its birthplace to give you a taste of Skye in every sip.” That’s heaven in a bottle of, say, Talisker Storm.
“It began as a test on behalf of Embodied Corp,” she said, “to see how well an AI entity could manage the Situation Room in times of a national crisis. The results were better than expected and highly positive. So we moved on to other tasks: scheduling, travel itineries, public tours, and even press briefings in which Moxie was dressed up to look like me.”
But there’s hope. A new product named “Moxie” is now on the market for parents who don’t have real moxie. Price tag: $799. Wikipedia says, “A social robot is an autonomous robot that interacts and communicates with humans or other autonomous physical agents by following social behaviors and rules attached to its role.”
Whether we consider “My Way” as Sinatra’s swan song as he approached retirement, a statement of principles for living, or just a nice song, it’s difficult to hear anyone else sing it. The 1969 song originated with the French song “
I tend to vote. When you vote in Georgia, you get a sticker like the one shown here. It’s mainly for people who will be out and around and can wear it proudly on their shirt or blouse to remind others that they’re flirting with becoming scum if they don’t get one of these stickers. Legally. That means not buying one from some guy on the street. I think the street value is 50￠. That tells that people don’t mind looking like scum and might even be proud of it.
Yahoo “news” reports that we can “Save on JLo’s Booty Balm and other celeb faves at Sephora’s Beauty Insider sale.” I lived my whole life without knowing there was a product out there called Booty Balm and wish I were still innocent. Seriously, do people need to hydrate their butts? This stuff is supposed to fade imperfections for a “smoother-looking booty.” And, it’s clinically tested, so we know this product is based on science rather than magical thinking. I notice, however, that when I was looking at the Booty Balm ad, I didn’t see any before and after photographs of treated Booty.
Fox News reported that “Biden blasted for new warning about ‘threats to democracy in midterms: ‘Their rhetoric is all a sham'” “During Wednesday night’s address, Biden focused his rhetoric on Republicans, asking Americans to vote for Democrats to protect democracy.” I like the old days when both major parties were trying to protect democracy. My feeling is that both parties have gone over the edge. And so have the news organizations that worship them.
According to the Associated Press, “Musk: People banned from Twitter won’t be restored for weeks.” The story says that “Elon Musk said Wednesday that Twitter will not allow anyone who has been kicked off the site to return until it sets up procedures on how to do that, a process that will take at least a few weeks.” For me, this info is filed under the I don’t care category. I don’t need Twitter to survive.
According to a roundtable on The Onion, “As the oldest commander-in-chief in the history of our republic, the current president’s age demands a vigorous discussion to settle the question: Should President Joseph R. Biden run again?” This seems to be the consensus: “So go ahead and spit on me. Strangle me. Strip me naked and dog-walk me across the cement floor on a metal leash. Threaten my wife and children. Hell, murder my entire family. Nothing—nothing—will break my resolve. I will never reveal whether I believe Biden will have the mental and physical ability at 81 years of age to retain the most powerful office in the world.”
Malcolm's Round Table 