Wednesday, October 7, 2009

The sound of knocking on wood is loud

I've never been sick. Let me hasten to say that I've had food poisoning (and a bit too much ::ahem:: alcohol) and thus been sick. And I've had a cold. And I have chronic digestive problems, which means I know the location of every bathroom in every restaurant in the Twin Cities.

But other than that, I've never been sick. I never had mumps, measles, or chicken pox, even though I helped nurse my siblings (and my spouse) through them. I've got my share of aches & pains, of course: bursitis in both hips necessitating deep bone shots 3x a year. A bum back with a disintegrating disc. And I spent 2 years in physical therapy to try to keep me out of a wheelchair because of said back.

But I just don't get sick. I get the sniffles now & then. I had a fever once. And I have an occasional asthma attack when I get too near the sheep barn at the State Fair.

Good genes? Possibly. I also swear by the Hall's Defense Vitamin C drops (sugar-free, at a Target or Walgreen's near you) which I suck on like candy. I have a glass of wine every night (heck, sometimes I have 2!). I exercise daily, even if it's just a walk. I get 5 hours of sleep a night before the pain in my back and/or my hips wakes me. When I get 7 hours it's a calendar event. I eat pretty much anything but small amounts. And I make a killer pot of chicken soup which I swear will cure just about anything short of bubonic plague (and I'm not sure of that only because I haven't tested it on any plague victims).

Whatever it is that's keeping the Angel of Icky from my door, I am SO thankful for it. And I plan to superstitiously continue whatever I'm doing on the off-chance I'm doing something right.

Knock on wood.

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