Shouldn't take Sherlock

There are two very good reasons I don't write on my beliefs, opinions, activities. First, I'm not that interesting. Second, my strength is observing the passing parade in a kind of literary freeze-tag, where I stop action long enough to ask, "does this make sense? No it doesn't, because it's stupid." And since it's common knowledge I never do stupid things, not much material in me really. But I got to write something about this 'Mystery Diagnosis' show.

Say you're in bed fighting one of those 48 hour bugs that's probably going around. 103 temperature, chills, night sweats, trying to find adequate TV entertainment. Turn on 'Mystery Diagnosis' throw in a high fever, and a strange internal dialogue begins...

Pssst Dave, see that girl? When she was a teen, every time she got her period, came with flu-like symptoms. She thought it was no big deal. See? She just said it again!
Then she moved to California and her boobs grew a cup size while she was standing at the luggage carousel, and she thought it was no big deal.

Lots of mid-west girls' boobs grow when they move to SoCal. It's called a culture that values style over substance.

Yep, well took months for them to get back to normal size. Then she got married, moved to Florida, and the same boob thing happened again. She thought it was no big deal. Then one day she finds it hard to climb a flight of stairs; 30yo woman. Month later walking across a room leaves her breathless. Then it's a big deal. All started with flu-like symptoms.

Shut up. I don't have boobs.

Thankfully, a Three Stooges marathon came on next, but an introspection infection had seated in my feverish noggin. Around hour 72 of my 48 hour bug I was wondering how to invent a pillow that stays cool all the time. But I was thinking about something else too, cause thinking about only one thing at a time, well that's just boring.

Had to admit, having a 103 temp for three days, yeah maybe that could be something serious. But on the other hand? I've had a lot of experiences past year or so that haven't been a bit pleasant, and to which the phrase 'Deja Vu' would not attach, not even with super glue. Could it be all this junk has me hyper-sensitized to dark speculation? Am I becoming a Jewish grandmother?

Seems clear to me the Creator in His/Its Wisdom has turned me into a continuing daytime drama; I just don't know how many seasons I'm gonna run. I don't know what the title would be... "The Old and the Listless" maybe? Or how about "The Bald and the Beautiful?" All I know is I barely missed a guest bit on "General Hospital."

What is it about me and Pneumonia? Am I just pneumonia-friendly or something? I know plenty of people who've never had it, yet this is my fourth round. But we should thank God in all things, because God is everywhere in all things.

So I thank God for modern medicine, and antibiotics, and that I haven't grown boobs, yet.