Kage Baker kept her tonsils until she was 31 years old.
It wasn’t her idea. She just never got tonsillitis much as a kid. So, although Kimberly and I had ours out in a job lot at 11 and 10, Kage went on happily into adulthood with never a fear.
Of course, when her tonsils decided to go south in her 31st year, she was profusely unhappy. Not very loudly, though: her throat was too sore … and a diet of ice cream is not as soothing at 31 as it is at 11. Kage mostly went for chocolate egg creams with a dash of rum …
This is on my mind because, while I am blessedly free of the curse of tonsils, I have a sore throat. It showed up yestreday and is getting worse. Having had all too much evidence presented to me lately that I am not the immune system Wonder Woman I used to be, I am casting paranoid glares down my own throat (in a mirror. My eyes are not on stalks.) and have sworn that if I still feel like I’m wearing ice picks in my ears tomorrow, I’m heading for the doctor. I don’t need to host stray Steptococcus strains.
In the meantime, I am curling up and sipping hot drinks, hacking dolorously. But the Aussie story is not over! I have selected a brief cast of about 20 Anangu and a half dozen adult Operatives. Plus various neophytes of both groups, coming to terms with one another more or less under the radar of their elders. All children have a universal knowledge of how to become invisible and evade the observation of their grown-ups: this, I have decided, is a trait firmly fixed in Homo sapiens.
And besides: the Preserver kids would have candy. And the Anangu kids would have dogs.
A match made in somebody or other’s heaven …
Why do we have tonsils, anyway? All they ever seem to do is cause trouble. I still have mine, despite repeated bouts of tonsillitus as a child, because my parents had the odd belief that tonsils are necessary somehow.
When I had sore throats my mother dosed me with a glass of whiskey that had a goodly measure of honey in it. It worked a treat, although that kind of thing would be frowned on today. I remember staying home from school, watching cartoons and being happily drunk on whiskey and honey. Maybe you should try it, with or without the Farmer Brown cartoons.
I was taught that tonsils are part of the immune system, and are invaluable – right up to the moment when they try to kill you. One of my sisters ended up with abscessed tonsils, Kage got such an infection her doctor called in a brain surgeon for fear it was breaching her skull, and yet another sister still has hers. I got mine snipped as a discount job with Kimberly. The variety of effects from the damned things was amazing.
Hot toddy! That is the answer. Hot water mixed with irish whiskey, liberal amounts of lemon juice and sugar, in a pint mug. I have no idea if they do any good, but I do know that after a while you sure do not care that your throat hurts …
I am so far free of strep, at least.
I’ve still got mine and I’m 64. They still seem to be doing their job, taking one for the team, and very seldom becoming a serious problem on their own. Like, maybe once.
Dogs and candy. That is so totally brilliant, I can’t even speak. :),
Some tonsils behave as they ought – which is how the stories get around about how they are nice little organs. But some are rogues and villains!
Yeah, dogs and candy. History, I am convinced, happens on multiple levels in any society. One of the less-observed and more-influential levels is about 3 feet down, where the kids and animals have very complex relationships. Most adults forget that.
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Is anyone else worried that Ms. Kate hasn’t posted since 4 Feb? I haven’t been reading this blog (?) long but she seemed to post quite regularly; now? not so much. Is she okay.
Sorry for the silence, William. I have been felled temporarily by influenza – the third strain this winter. Any moment now, the 23% effectiveness advertised for my flu vaccine should be kicking in … actually, I am much better and will be resuming blogging tomorrow. Please accept my apologies, Dear Readers all – it’s been a hard winter health wise.
Please forgive me. I am always being misunderstood. Although I did miss your wonderful voice those few afternoons – I was more concerned about your health and well being. Not to be too macabre but I have lost family and friends through the perils of the flu. To put it in the vernacular you scared me!
It’s all right, William – it’s nice to be missed! I appreciate the concern. And the flu has certainly been a wretched experience this year. I’m still surprising myself with the occasional sea-lion cough, but I’m definitely on the mend now.