WARNING: Potentially lunch-wrecking photos below.
Won’t bore you with the details, but I’ve been having some daunting voice issues of late. When you come from a family of loggers and farmers it’s a tad embarrassing to talk about tired vocal cords, but bottom line is, they do a lot of heavy lifting for our family income-wise, so I have to take the issues seriously.
Getting some good help and have not yet resorted to deer antler spray.
As with any issue of a corporeal sort, one must engage in what the medical profession refers to as the “rule-out” process, which today meant running a camera-equipped tube up my nose and down into my stomach. Sitting there, gently retching, I could watch the camera’s progress, but mostly I didn’t, because someone had clearly punched up the wrong channel: These were the heaving, glistening giblets of some disgusting meat-based alien, whereas I am composed entirely of mystery and light.
The doctor did say I had one of the longest esophagi she had ever seen. I leave you to make your own jokes. I made one right away but I know my mother reads this blog so I must refrain.
Best part of the visit? Phone rang halfway through, and it was my agent. They put her on speaker phone and she shared some very good news (details to follow after the ink dries). I responded by smiling and gagging.