So, I'm awake early on Friday morning. I COULD go surfing... the first time in nearly two weeks. Instead, I opt to read the paper and do some gardening at first light. Why? Ever since dipping into the ocean almost three weeks ago, unknowingly in a red tide, I haven't been able to smell a thing. Surfing in Santa Monica while Venice was closed to a sewage spill a week later didn't help things either.
I toughed it out most of this time, hoping that being out of the water and doing some saline wash would eventually get whatever was going on. It didn't look like an infection (and I know this because I carefully examine what blows out onto the tissue after I make loud honking noises).
Finally, this week, I started a course of antibiotics (a prescription I refilled two months ago "just in case") because I'm going to Vegas this weekend. A town known to most as smoky casinos and ringing slots appears to me like a hedonistic playpen. Not only are there twinkly lights to amuse and sexy postures posted everywhere, but there are the expensive, quiet little corners with some absolutely fine food.
I am making another visit to Picasso at the Bellagio where I once had a melt-in-your-mouth black bass and a beautifully rich foie gras paired with a sweet citrus sauce. I would really like to taste tonight's menu, so I hope the antibiotics have done enough since I began taking them on Tuesday.
I think there has been progress. I'm breathing easier at night and the last couple of days of honking have resulted in some evidence that I did indeed have a sinus infection. Those particular sinuses were just so inflamed that they weren't letting anything go. I'm going to go have a bagel with some lox spread and see if I can taste it.