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Living with Schizoaffective Disorder

No Artificial Preservatives

Praise Be To The Busy Bee.

Michael David Crawford, Baritone,
mdcrawford@gmail.com

Friday, August 3, 2018

Since Wednesday I've had a really bad sore throat. The pain makes it difficult to swallow so I've been hungry most of this time. Oddly, it didn't interfere with my singing ability so I was able to raise my bus fare Wednesday afternoon.

That my Uvula is quite swollen lead me to consult a doctor yesterday. Your Uvula is the very small flap that hangs down from the innermost part of your Soft Palate. Mine is now an inch long and three-eights of an inch wide. Such Uvula swellings happened to me several times during high school. The second and subsequent times it was resistant to each of the previous antibiotics, leading my doctor to tell my mother and I that I was running out of treatment options.

Yesterday my doctor asked a nurse to swab my tonsils for a Rapid Response Strep Throat Test that turned up negative. While I asked my doc to determine whether my infection was bacterial or viral, other than testing for Strep she didn't actually do so.

"Eat honey," she advised me. "It makes a real difference."

"I don't know why."

"I know why," I replied:

My father was a beekeeper as was Grandma Crawford; someday I too will keep bees. Mom still has a few quart jars of Dad's honey.

Upon noticing that the honey in Mom's refrigerator had crystallized, I gently heated it in a pot of water on the stove. Once the crystals had all dissolved I set the jar out on Mom's kitchen counter.

Mom put it back in her fridge.

I took it back out.

She and I want back and forth in silent debate until I wrote the following on a sticky then put it on the honey jar's lid:

Mom,

You don't need to refrigerate honey.

You can embalm a stiff in it.

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