Tonsil Wars

I’m sick. I hate being sick. The problem is that every time I have gotten sick since the age of zero it has been tonsillitis. I know the symptoms well.

1. At first I am blissfully unaware of what is about to happen to me.

2. Then my throat starts to feel a little scratchy. This phase is laced with denial about my imminent illness.

3. My skin starts to hurt and I become a little irritable. I am still, however, in denial.

4. I start to run a fever and get the shakes. My denial starts to weaken.

5. My throat starts to hurt in earnest and I can only croak out a few syllables very now and again. I now have to face the awful and irrefutable fact that I am sick. It is at approximately this point that I curl into a ball and hug my knees.

6. I start to get a bit delirious and feel very very sorry for myself.

7. I start to question why something this awful is happening to me!

This last phase of illness, coupled with my delirium leads to many strange discussions with myself. I start to wonder what I ever did to my tonsils to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment. Could it be that I insulted a tonsil in my past life?? Or maybe I abandoned a tonsil in a time of need! Possibly a business deal between myself and a tonsil went sour?! But STILL! This is ridiculous!

My tonsils mock me from inside my throat. ‘Hahahaha we are going to hurt you for no conceivable reason other than our morbid will to bring pain and suffering upon you!’ And then they decide to hold the Tonsil World Kick-boxing Championship inside my throat and beat the crap out of each other. But then it turns into WWE and Stone Cold Steve Tonsil runs down the ramp and jumps into the ring and hits one of my tonsils over the head with a chair.

Soon Hitler and Mussolini are involved and it’s a full-on free-for-all! My tonsils are double-teaming Hitler but then Mussolini tags in and beats the crap out of one of my tonsils while Stone Cold just flails around hitting everything in sight with a ladder! And then fuckin’ Mike Tyson joins in with his deceptively squeaky voice and one of my tonsils makes the mistake of laughing at him and so Mike Tyson goes apeshit and bites my tonsil’s ear off! The tonsil loses it and starts running around like a headless chicken trailing blood and chaos in its wake. In the process it manages to run headlong into one my glands.

‘Aha!’ he thinks, ‘A weapon!’ and then he rips out my glad and turns to face the melee, wielding it like some sort of swollen, bloodied club! Everyone else (especially Hitler) thinks it’s a fucking great idea to fight fire with fire and so everyone rips out a gland and a fierce fight ensues in which all of my glands are completely obliterated.

Stone Cold inevitably wins the fight with the Dictator Tag-Team of Hitler and Mussolini coming a close second. Tyson is out but he has a tonsil ear to nibble on so he’ll be ok. My tonsils have inevitably come off worst. They lie festering in a swollen, aching heap, unmoving and thoroughly obliterated.

Damn you tonsils. Damn you right to hell.