02
Apr
11

Out like a lamb?

April has arrived and, I have to admit, I am quite relieved.  March, though, did not go out without a fight and really gave me a good kick to the scrotum its last few days.  I had a dentist appointment on 3/29 and received the news that I had two cavities.  Now, my vanity has carried me 32 years through life with a pretty good bill of health.  In fact, leading up to 3/29, I’ve had two cavities my whole life;  one when I was 18 and one when I was 28, so you can understand my shock and disappointment at this diagnosis.  Not to mention the $300 it would cost to remove the cavities because my dentist is not covered by my insurance. When I first arrived on the beaches of Southern California, with about $14 and three boxes of books, a pretty lady named Nina and her husband were just starting their dental practice and took me under their wing.  For about two years they gave me free cleanings and in turn won my unwavering loyalty.  I have stayed with them even though they are out of my network.  It has worked out pretty well because, as you see, I never have problems with my teeth.  It just so happens that February’s appointment was pushed back to March and now I have two cavities.  Of course they will give me a discount but that 25% doesn’t change Katherine from thinking I am a sentimental moron.

March 30 came along and I was jumping for joy that the month was almost over.  In fact, I jumped out of Katherine’s car that morning while picking my car up from the dealership.  I got settled in, turned on my XM and was ready to start my day.  I looked around for my $100.00 blue tooth. Shit, where is it? Just as I realized it had been on my lap as I jumped out of her car, I looked back to see her driving over it.  Ha Ha, well-played you malicious month of March.

As the day came to a close, I could feel the cold hand of sickness coming over me.  It is funny because I was just going to write about how my exercise and healthy living has kept me clear of illness all season.  As the night wore on, I grew worse.  Katherine fled to the comforts of the guest room and my fish circled in worry.  I spent the night coughing up demons from a bronchi hell. When the first rays of the 31st appeared, I was covered in sweat and forced to call out sick.  My bosses thought it was because of Opening Day 2011, but I assured them that it was just consequence of the maligning month of March in her final throes.  Besides, the Phillies didn’t even have their opening game until Friday 4/1.

As I suffered, sick as sin with a sinus infection through the last few hours of the month, I found solace in knowing that April was coming to save me.  I slept in the guest room that night and had gone to bed around 8:30 p.m.  Katherine knew I was really sick because the only time I’d ever go to bed that early is if I was on a 24-hour bender, or had jet lag.  Around midnight, I awoke, again covered in sweat.  The room was pitch dark and filled with the phantoms of my illness.  My throat was dry and I tried to call out.  I was paralyzed and voiceless.  All I could hear was the ticking of some distant clock.  I tried to break free, disrobe from these hot sheets that seemed to have captured me.  All of a sudden, I heard the first chime of midnight. Dong, dong, dong, slowly but surely the last breaths of my hated month exhausted into the night.  I had made it, I thought, dong, dong, dong, halfway there. My yearly foe had come and was now leaving me be.  As the last chime rung out and met the new April air, a chill came over me and I could have sworn I heard a tiny voice whisper, Goodbye MC. I lay back exhausted but content.  March was gone and I had made it through.

The next morning the sun was shining and it was already hot.  I could hear my wife stirring in the kitchen and I quickly went out to see her.  Spring had come and my mojo was back.  She greeted me in the dining room and although I was still weak, I hugged her tightly.  As we stood, whispering sweet nothings in the early morning, I happened to glance over her shoulder at my fish tank.  There, on the bottom, was March’s kiss goodbye.  Sweetlips Jackson, so young and brilliant, lay dead, lost forever in time like the last chime of a fading clock.

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