Friday, December 7, 2012

The Hospital Quartet, Part 4 - The Buttery Aftertaste

For reasons that defied the explanation of every doctor and nurse during my convalescence, I had the horrid, pungent taste of butter in my mouth every time I awakened. It was undoubtedly the result of one of the medications the were dumping into me, but I must tell you that it was the most horrid thing.

Well, not the most horrid, but right up there.
So, this is the summation of the last six weeks of my life. Blissfully, all of these things are gone. Time for a nap.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It's so great that you can illustrate your misery so well and so humorously! You truly have a wry spirit, learned from your father, no doubt.
Wait! Wry bred and butter...