In nursing the Poet these past few days through a nasty bout of bronchitis, I managed to contract something that makes me cough half as much as she does, yet sound immeasurably worse while doing so. My first thought was to sleep long enough that I woke up feeling great.

Sadly, the rest-can-cure-all-things-except-internal-bleeding course of treatment has not worked since my twenties. And really, who had time for such self-indulgences?

And then I thought: ingest copious amounts of over the counter medication, the sort of cold and severe cough blend that suppress all the symptoms, so I may continue with my busy schedule. Yes, yes. Very busy. Of course the local drug store had an answer.

But then I remembered the magic OTC compounds contained chemicals which made me feel like I trampolined on rainbows while wearing moon boots. Plus the liquid inside the plastic bottle either tasted like an alcoholics recreation of cherry licorice or a flavor that a chemist can only describe as blue.

So now I’m thinking I don’t know, maybe I could just…go to a doctor.