My Souffle Also Rises

I’m back! I’m typing! I’ve never been so happy to feel a keyboard beneath my fingertips.

I have no idea what my post title is about. I think I’m still loopy from the prednisone shot.

So here’s the story, in a nutshell: as regular readers know, I ate about 73.5 metric tons, give or take, of garlic on Valentine’s Day. Two days later, my archenemy descended on my hands. It got worse and worse over the course of a week and a half until I had golden pus, a very old demon of mine, pulsing from deep wounds around my knuckles. Enter prednisone shot. That was Friday morning. I type here today as a new woman, a humbled woman, grateful for the nuclear bombs of Western medicine.

I have learned some valuable lessons from this experience:

  1. I am actually allergic to garlic, despite my ongoing denial.
  2. Thou shalt not eat vast amounts of garlic ever again.
  3. It’s really hard to sit on the couch reading for three days straight, not moving your hands.
  4. It’s actually not fun when your partner has to do all the shopping, cleaning, and cooking while you sit around on your growing behind.
  5. There’s a time to fight the war and a time to drop the bomb. So it goes.

I haven’t done much cooking in the past several days. I’ve been too busy taking drugs and reading novels. As soon as I resurface, I’ll be sure to write about food again. Until then…

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