It ain't dainty, fo sho!

It is dainty to be sick if you have leisure and convenience for it.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

The last few months have been a little hard on the posse medically speaking, and let me tell ya, it has been anything but dainty! While Blush wins for length and variety of illnesses (including cellulitis, bursitis, and a throat infection, not to mention the tests for suspected gout*, mono, a thyroid disorder, disfunctioning liver and step … all of which resulted in 22 office visits, a trip to the ER, six different antibiotics and wandering the city like a nomad looking for nurse friends to give her a shot in the butt every day for 3 weeks), Amber wins the Wednesday Happy Hour Gross Medical Condition of the Week Award:

As diagnosed by Dr. X, who, if you didn't know, has a master’s degree in electrical engineering, so of course he's brilliant in my book.

Dr. X: You have a bit of food stuck on your tonsil.
Amber: *mortified* Oh! I'm sorry! Let me go get some water … and a harikari sword

Dr. X: No no no, it's nothing that you would know about
Amber: *sniff* gonna keep the sword handy
Dr.X: and water probably won't dislodge it anyway
Amber: *sniff* tequila?

Anyhoo, seems like I have a very rare, and disgusting, tonsil
condition. A hole that traps food. Seriously. But not like a
zit, because according to Dr. X, it's not a zit coz it's not entirely closed up.
Yuckomundo!

So after Dr. X and his trusty lab dude both tried and fail to scrape my tonsil out of my throat with various pointy sticks (No! Shine the light on her tonsil, not her nose! Ms. Amber, relax and try to suppress the gag reflex.*Editor's note: Never knew that was a MEDICAL instruction* Her tonsil, her tonsil! Hand me that wire loop! Not her nose! Ms. Amber, relax please.) they decided it was a job for a specialist.

Incidentally, Amber and Blush are both patients of Dr. X, although he doesn’t know they are practically sisters (They have been asked that so many times at the Slice of Heaven, they just roll with it now. “Yes we are” is much easier than getting into some long drawn out conversation with drunken roofers.). If Dr. X did know about their kinship, it might change his diagnosis since Amber believes that we are all getting these weird infections from the soap in ‘Heaven.

*When Dr. X said I had gout, I asked him, “Is that really even a disease? Isn’t that just something you read about in Civil War novels?” He was highly offended and rattled off the textbook medical description for gout, which to me sounded like the teacher on Charlie Brown: Whaaaaaa whaaaaaa whaaaaa. Whaaaaa wha wha wha whaaaaaaa.