22 September 2008

The end of days

Anyone who's read The Perfume (and everyone has of course, because otherwise the earth would have spun off its axis) will remember how Grenouille's vessel mum was described as being in splendid health, for had she not lived to be almost 20 and managed to retain a fair amount of her teeth? Which is why you now feel you should be dropping a mutant behind a fish stall in between handing out a mackerel or two since you have, due to medical incompetence and in the XXI century, been deprived of two of your own beloved molars in very rapid succession, though certainly not rapidly enough - it's been a while but you still shudder at the mention of liquid food of any sort (and don't even mention ice-cream or you'll barf) bcs that's what you lived on for abt a month and a half while your soul clammoured for your beloved veggies and also, your gums don't care for stitches, NOT AT ALL, sutures are evil and must be rejected as soon as possible and enveloped by an inflammatory reaction the likes of which will cause everything from your neck to your ears to throb nonstop even with heavy analgesia and the actual removing of the remaining stiches is painful as bloody hell bcs they are by that time imbedded in the gum and lucky you, you do it twice!

Ahh, life on the exciting lane: 2 months of exams, one tooth out, recovery, Manuela arrives, mad, fun, absolutely fabulous week during which she of the 11h A Night Sleep And Possibly More But You Had To Wake Her Up Or She'd Have Slept Her Holiday Away and cheery disposition and an abundance (ABUNDANCE!) of energy complained of the heat and almost fainted while you wrapped yourself in fleece during one of the coldest Augusts Lisbon has ever seen, another tooth out, recovery, 2 days of no pain and then you're studying for exams again, and now you'd like to point out that two hefty courses of broad-spectrum antibiotics are very useful if you're extracting teeth that are fractured or broken bcs the last thing you want is a pus of bacteria [you've just created this collective noun, and isn't it fitting?] loose and aiming for your heart, but when said courses are admnistered in a time span a little over 3 weeks it is no surprise that you should wake up one day to the realisation that you have a yeast infection, and oh, how you'd missed them.

You weren't amiable to the notion of further filling every cellular orifice with yours with yet more chemical compounds so you decide to try yoghurt, yoghurt which is filled with valiant biphidus and features so successfully and prominently in every yeasty ode you've ever read. So the next three days see a flurry of yoghurt in places where you'd never wished for yoghurt to be - or ripen, for with it comes the knowledge that yoghurt, sweet, velvety, creamy-textured yoghurt doesn't age so very well. With it also comes the knowledge that it is not working and that doesn't make any sense until you realise you managed to buy the one brand of yoghurt available that somehow does not sport any biphidus to speak of so really, you've been living inside a Stilton for naught.

The mixture of considerable pain and stubborness clouding your judgement, you next decide to try Gentian Violet for its phenomenal anti-fungal properties. It certainly works on babies' mouths, yes? Friends of the vaginal persuasion, heed this: even after you've carefully diluted it, applying Gentian violet to rawish areas of your anatomy will cause you to scream, leap forward, violently bang your forehead against the wall, bounce back, jump off the bidet, hop around gnashing your teeth and finally jump back on the bidet bcs you remember anew that that's where the faucets are although the water takes so long to flush off the offensive agent that Shroedinger's Cat can be considered dead. The proper anti-fungal cream, which you shortly afterwards found in your very well organised bathroom cabinet, of all places (and only then bcs you actually remembered to look), and biphidus pills did very soon manage to make life bearable again and all in all it must be considered a success for systemic medication was avoided after all and isn't that a splendid thing? [Idiot!] Mind, against all odds you will still be very shocked when a few days later, during your matinal ablutions, you realise you now look as though you've been Ladygodivaing a patch of purple cabbages. You will find the colour fades to a greyish blue in time; since you have no idea what the average pubic turnover is you will also assume you'll look nether-Goth for quite a while still.

And then, of course, Gertrudes raised her ever-vigilant head and partied in wanton abandon for quite a while and the least said abt that the better, you're welcome.

And now you have just finished watching the whole of The Sarah Connor Chronicles, you'd lovingly (and wisely) saved it for after the exams bcs some of your friends, after a gruelling period of work, need to go out and see people and colours and hear loads of different sounds but you need to be left alone in your cave reading or watching series so you can properly count and regain the use of your mental limbs and this last exam season is a perfect blur to you, you have the feeling you have been boning up forever - and then come to your depleted senses and realise that that might just be bcs, in fact, you have been boning up forever but then, unexpectedly, you are one grade away from being done and you will, since you passed Internal Medicine, most assuredly begin your internship on the 1st and wait, YOU ARE ONE SUBJECT AWAY FROM BEING DONE!!, and that realisation turns you into a puddle of tears and you are readying yourself for, once you have an idea of when the Infectious Diseases grades are coming out, impatiently and in much trepidation roaming the hallways wearing old clothes and a bikini underneath it bcs your university has many traditions, the greatest of which seems to be trying to make students have the lowest grade possible/fail/lose their minds, preferably all three, but one other tradition is that once you've passed the very last subject your colleagues and sometimes teachers descend upon you and cut off your clothes with scissors so they hang off you like tattered ribbons, and you are praying with every fibre of your body that, please God, very soon you will be able to post a picture of yourself parading around school only half clad here, here, where your life is made so much better by the people whom you mostly never met and yet have given you so very much throughout the years, sanctuary and hope and utter support and loyalty and even the raising of the dead, bcs that will mean you will not only have slayed the minor dragons but also tamed the major ones, the ones which, after all these years of fighting, you will now ride, the ones on whose back you can finally soar.

15 furballs:

Anonymous said...

"nether-Goth"!!!
OMG, Lioness you are THE, THE, THE!
love,
K.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful writing, beautiful you. Soaring, indeed. All the way to SFO, in just seven weeks!!!!!!!! I'm so proud of you, so very very very proud. Hooray for the internship! Hooray for your perseverance! Hooray for stepping boldly into the future!

xxoo
V

kirkjerk said...

More people in this world need to write and think and live with this kind of intensity. For reals.

Vacant Uterus said...

"Ladygodivaing a patch of purple cabbages..." BWAHAHAHAHA!! Awesome!

So happy for you that you are having a small break before the last big push. You WILL be running around half-clad, I know it. Can't wait for the pics.

Udge said...

Marvellous (the post and hte news).

Old Bald Helen said...

Welcome back, Lioness. Fabulous everything!

(Except perhaps the part about the yogurt....)

Lioness said...

K, oh my, thanks dahling! I do feel loved, love back at you!

V., what?! SEVEN weeks?? That can't be right! Let's not ever mention it again, LALALA!

Kirk, I would have avoided some of that intensity if I were a tad brighter, but cheers, at's a lovely thing to hear. And now we can even resume our emailing! Or we will be able to once I stop feeling dumb as soup. My Dr. friend says this is my refractory period, it certainly feels that way.

F., there really was no better way to describe it. But you know, once I pass this subject I won't have any more pushes, that's what so beautiful abt it, I'll be done with subjects and have only the internship and thesis to write!

Udge, thanks dahling! Keep your fingers crossed for me for I WILL HAVE PASSED THAT EXAM!

OBH, thanks! You know, I tried to write a post 3 times during these months, it always ended with my staring blankly at the screen. This was the first exam season I didn't relax through writing abt it, I really had nothing left to give. ALL GONE NOW! (And the Gentian Violet, perhaps)

JoeinVegas said...

You could have done the Brazillian thing and foregone all the coloring. But I am looking forward to the semi-clad photos, as much for the content as for what they stand for - completion!
Good work!

Nancy said...

Ahh. Yes, I think wearing a bikini is a wise thing, as having ones clothing cut off could been rather more traumatic if done "commando" (going about without one's undergarments)

congratulations Lioness!

(virtual scissors: snip snip)

Kath said...

Oh, Lioness, that was brilliant. That Gentian Violet story made me laugh and cringe at the same time, so vivid was your description.

And I never thought I'd have an occasion to say this, but I hope that you will soon be roaming the halls with your clothes hanging in shreds off you.

I'm so sorry I missed your calls! XO

Lord Chimmy said...

"Ladygodivaing a patch of purple cabbages."

I couldn't stop laughing. I'm sorry.

CarpeDM said...

I had no problem imagining the dance of the Gentian Violet and grinned and cringed with equal ferocity.

I only know about Shrodinger's cat because of the Big Bang Theory (love, love, love that show).

Love you much, dahling!

brooksba said...

You rock! I'm so proud of you. I hope there are many pictures of your triumphant day and I can't wait to hear more! Congrats on the internship. There will be lots of cuties that will be better off because you get to help them.

Anonymous said...

Rosh HaShana Tova, Dear Lioness!
K.

Udge said...

Ketiva ve-chatima tovah, my dear.