When I left retail to work at the call center, I thought things would change.  Sadly, they did not.  While I didn't have to deal with the public, I did have to share equipment with some fairly grubby and hygienically challenged individuals.  Add to that the fact that I hated the call center job even more than I hated the retail gig, a thing I hadn't thought possible while still at the mall.  I believe by that point my immune system had given up and left the building entirely, giving the opportunistic pathogens free reign.  I don't recall a time at the call center when I wasn't sick.

But then I got a new job, the job I have currently, and things finally did change.  I loved my new job, my immune system came slinking back, and I didn't have to deal with the public or filthy co-workers using my stuff and getting it all germy.  For the first time in years, I could go more than a month without getting sick.  Bliss.

The thing is, while I no longer get sick very often at all, whenever I do fall ill, it's always something weird.  Always.  Anyone who's been reading for the past few years will remember the Martian Death Mumps of 2006, a combination of diseases and infections that left me looking and feeling like the product of an unholy, drunken union between the Elephant Man and a leprous bullfrog.  Good fucking times, friends, let me tell you.  My face was so swollen and my neck and jaw hurt so much, I could only open my mouth a tiny little bit.  I survived on graham crackers and water sipped through a coffee stirrer because a regular straw was too big.  While on the one hand, it hurt like hell and was a big pain in the ass, on the other, it did do wonders for my weight loss efforts, so that's something.

But so anyway, the weird disease beast has once again reared its ugly head, and I am afflicted with yet another bizarre condition:  tongue infection.  

Tongue infection?  Who the fuck gets a tongue infection?!

Yes, that would be me, apparently.

According to my doctor, it's something to do with allergies and the pollen count being ridiculously high and sinus drainage down the back of my throat irritating the back of my tongue and getting it all infected.  Or something.  I don't fucking know.  She had a whole explanation, and it seemed to make sense at the time, and she seems to think it's relatively common thing, though I've sure as fuck never heard of anyone getting a tongue infection.  I mean what the HELL, you know?  Jesus.  I don't care if it is a thing people get and it isn't all that uncommon, I still think it's a fucking retarded sort of affliction. My doctor gave me a slew of assorted antibiotics and cough syrups and instructions to gargle with salt water, and she says that it will clear up in a few days, so fine.  But still.  Who the fuck gets a goddamn tongue infection? Stupid.

It started a week and a half ago when I began waking up in the middle of the night because I had an uncontrollable dry cough.  It was awful.  I drank and drank and drank trying to get the dry cough to stop, but nothing worked.  I took cough syrup, sucked on lozenges, drank warm Jell-O, and took spoons full of honey and lemon juice, but none of it did any good.  It didn't help that I use a CPAP machine, and the constant air blowing up my nose and down my throat just exacerbated the problem.  I tried to go back to sleep without the mask, but then my sinuses slammed shut and I could only breath out of my mouth which lead to horrific snoring which aggravated the cough further, and there you go.

I had initially assumed that I was coming down with a cold because they usually start with a dry cough.  But when no other symptoms presented, I was confused.  Instead of confused, I should have been fearful, because when the other symptoms finally did show up, they were dreadful, worse than anything I've ever experienced with a cold.  After spending several mostly sleepless nights coughing my way from dusk to dawn, I awoke one morning with the most godawful, horrific and nightmareish taste in my mouth.  It was like nothing I'd ever tasted before.  Not even the worst of all heinous morning breath could hold a candle to it.  Like rotten bitter almonds and death, like I'd licked a slaughterhouse floor and chased it with a handful of the sludge that collects at the bottom of a dumpster, like...well, you get the picture.  It was bad bad super bad.

I tried like to hell to get the taste out of my mouth, but nothing worked.  I brushed and scraped the living hell out of my tongue, but to no avail.  I gargled with the hurtiest of all hardcore hurty mouthwashes, but the taste was still there.  I tried gargling with fluoride mouthwash, with hydrogen peroxide, with beer, with salt water, with vodka, and with everything and anything I could get my hands on, short of battery acid (and the only reason I didn't try that was because I wasn't sure how to get the battery out of my car), but nothing made a dent in the taste.  I tried to eat something to see if that would help, but it only made it worse.  Not only did I have a bad taste in my mouth, but everything I ate tasted wrong and bad.  It all had this heinous, bitter aftertaste that reminded me of earwax.  Not that I've ever eaten earwax, mind you, but food tasted like what I would imagine earwax to taste like if I ever had eaten it.  I mean, sure, I suppose it's entirely within the realm of possibility that I have at some point inadvertently consumed earwax.  I'm just saying that I have never willingly or voluntarily consumed the stuff.

But I digress.

The final straw came when I tried to consume a Godiva key lime truffle, my most absolute favorite flavor ever.  It tasted like ass, like bitter, earwaxy ass.  Like bitter earwaxy ass with an assy sort of funky aftertaste.    Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it was the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted in my life.  I gagged uncontrollably and spit out the offending truffle.  It broke my heart to do so, but I couldn't eat it.  And that was the point at which I ran to the doctor to fix whatever the hell was wrong with me, because life is just not worth living if I can't eat my beloved Godiva key lime truffles.

And so now I have my drugs, and my doctor assures me everything will be back to normal in a few days, but in the meantime this whole infected tongue thing has been interesting.  Not in a "Oh, how very interesting!" sort of way, but more in a "GodfuckingDAMNIT" sort of way.  Everything I eat or drink tastes like ass, which like I said, is great for dieting.  On the other hand, it could prove dangerous, too, and in fact, it already has a bit.  I ate a yogurt the other day, and it was disgusting, natch.  But then a few hours later I started to feel sickly and unwell in a digestive maelstrom sort of way.  And I was trying to think of what I could have eaten to upset my stomach in this manner, when it occurred to me to look at the yogurt container.  Turns out the damn thing was weeks and weeks and weeks past the expiration date, but I had no idea it tasted bad because it was bad, I just thought the vile taste was due to my bizarro tongue infection.  And now I can't stop thinking what else I might eat that's actually gone bad or is in some other way tainted.  How would I know, you know?  And what's to stop people from playing cruel and evil tricks on me? I mean, if this were happening to a friend and not to me, I'd totally take advantage and fuck with them.  I'd give them all kinds of disgusting and unpleasant things, and when they ask me about them, I'd be all "What?  No, no, it's fine.  Mmmm!  Delicious!" while they're eating something vile and horrific like tomato aspic or cobbler made of, I don't know, crayons and eggplant.  But that's just me, and I'd like to think my friends and roommates are not so evil. I hope.

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