More Sick Thoughts

I can hear my face.

And I don’t like it very much.

It sounds like my cartilage is constantly crinkling, like one of Matt’s boys squirming to get comfortable on a new leather couch.

(Matt’s boys are each over six feet tall. And the couch isn’t very cozy, as the darned kid won’t stop moving. I bet it’s Josh. Yeah, Josh is squirmy.)

Cath says the noise isn’t cartilage at all, but rather it is mucus. The sound is caused by sections of mucus breaking off, like ice calving from a glacier. She also says that it is good, a sign that I am healing.

She says other things, but I’m not listening. I’m too taken with the mucus as glacier image.

I wonder if there are native mucus people – let’s call them Mucamos – and I wonder if they put their elderly Mucamos onto mucus floes, and watch them as they float off into the Sinus Sea.

And I’m glad that this is a sign that I’m healing, because I can’t wait to stop hearing my face.

And to start thinking and writing of things other than little snot populations and booger bergs.

And maybe you can start reading about other things as well.

Just my thoughts,

Sean