Dear right tonsil:

I don't even know where to begin. I thought we were friends. I thought I treated you well. I thought we were on the same page. Then Christmas Eve happened.

I mean seriously? You got to wig out on Christmas Eve. There are no doctors working on Christmas Eve and yet this is the day I wake up and feel like there's something stuck in my throat.

That is a terrible feeling.

I tried hot tea.

I tried milk.

I tried alcohol.

You just couldn't chill out. You just had to keep looking weird and puffing up, decorating yourself with a nice white spot. I mean I was traveling. That whole Christmas thing. Remember?

So I ended up at a clinic.. You know one of those open all the time come see our "doctor" places. My husband touched the magazines and ended up with a sinus infection but that's another blog post.

The doctor insisted it was strep. I insisted it was not. I didn't feel sick. I felt like I had something stuck in my freakin throat.

Of course, I took the antibiotic. It did nothing and you knew it wouldn't. Didn't you?

I reached my breaking point.

My lets take my absessed tooth out with an ice skate moment. You know the one.

I went back to the doctor. This time I went to my family practitioner and said, "I'm not leaving until you fix my tonsil."

He looked in there and said, "I see the problem and I'm gonna take it off."

After three tries of stabbing me repeatedly with a Popsicle stick cleverly disguised as a tongue depressed, he removed a narley looking tonsil stone.

A what?

I mean why? Why tonsil? Is it because I'm 40? Is it because you just felt like shaking things up?

Let's come up with a truce. I'll gargle with warm salt water and a crushed aspirin at least once a week if you promise never, ever, ever to do this to me again.

I mean I thought we were friends.

Sincerely,

~Kisa~