Fact of the matter is, I’ve not been well for some time. I’ve known there was something wrong with me for quite some time now, but it was so elusive, and so subtle that not even blood tests revealed anything, that for the last several months, almost a year now, it’s gone undetected. I’ve visited doctors (the MD kind), doctors, (the PhD kind), psychiatrists, psychologists, holistic naturopaths, sports doctors, mountain men, herbalism-infused hillbillies, and many others it would not do to take the web space to list.
I even wrote to the Democrats to see if they could help, but they couldn’t, since the Oregon healthcare exchange website was broken. Ah, sorrow…
Late one night, though, the realization hit me so hard that I sat bolt upright in bed. I shouldn’t have done that, it’s a little hard to sit bolt upright in the loft of a tiny house without knocking one’s coggin against rafters and random boards floating around above one’s cranium.
Aside from bumps, knocks, and jolts, I managed to spit the words out to no one in particular. “MBS!”
“I have MBS!”
Then I sank back into my bed, exhausted. At long last, I had identified my disease. Not that knowing it would solve anything. MBS is a particularly vicious disease; some say it is a virus, others a bacteria. I myself am not sure exactly what it is, although I know I have it quite severely, since I’ve looked up the symptoms.
They can range anywhere from mild to nearly fatal, and it appears I am lingering on the far end of the brink of nearly fatal. Not sure what to do about that….
Symptoms include talking to and patting one’s method of locomotion, in this case it would be my trusty pickup Benjamin; bantering conversationally with one’s plants, weeds, and even hand tools, criticizing pots and pans for being dirty or hot (or both), talking in unusually high or low tones to one’s own self, relating stories, thoughts, problems such as,
“Where are my keys? Hmm, musn’t misplace one’s keys, that’s a very bad thing to do. Eh, myself? Yeah, I know. I think so too. Let’s see, are they under this pile of stale egg shells? Nope, they’re not. My, those are starting to smell a little bit aren’t they. My my. Let’s open a window…..Oh wait, the window won’t open. Yeah, probably should work on getting those things hinged in as soon as possible.
Oh look! A piece of chocolate! Uhoh, a piece of dried marmorated stink bug is on the bottom of it….oh well, it’s chocolate. *inserts into mouth* MMm, I love chocolate, don’t you? You do? Good, I do too haha.
What were we looking for? Oh my, it’s almost time to leave for work. *nervous laugh to self* Better find those keys…Maybe they’re somewhere in Ooops! no, haha, not in there. That smells awful, what IS that?
OH!!! That’s right! I left them in my coat pocket. haha. Alright, here we go to work! Are you ready? (this to the lunchbag) You are? Good. So am l. Let’s go!”
…..And so on. Symptoms also include staring out the window, working in the rain, sitting on the bed playing solitaire Phase 10, eating scrambled eggs that were cooked two days ago and never refrigerated, things like that.
There are actually several other symptoms, but it won’t do to list them now. Let’s just say that by the time I read through the list of symptoms on howdoyouknowifyouhavembs.com I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I had MBS. And I had it bad.
The website listed only one known cure, which is very hard to locate, let alone obtain. It can be pretty expensive too. Sometimes you may think you have the cure only to find out you don’t! It did list, however, several things that can somewhat alleviate the pain of the disease and perhaps slow its progress.
OH! And I almost forgot (another symptom of MBS). I haven’t told you yet what MBS is!
It’s Moldy Bachelor Syndrome. Yep. I got it bad. But things that help are eating real food (not the semi-edible, non-appetizing morsels I manage to scrounge for myself) and being with real people. (not trucks, pianos, or lettuce seedlings)
Any ideas people? 🙂