Here Comes The Sun

Ah, the songs that have been written about that big ball of warmth in the sky.
The aforementioned Beatles tune that titles this week's column.  "The Warmth of the Sun", "Sunshine Superman", "Sunny Days", "We'll Sing in the Sunshine", and on and on and on.
As I get older, the more I'm learning that I can't ignore the healing power of sunblock or tanning lotion.
I was reminded of this last Saturday when I was home alone that afternoon.  The backyard hammock, which has been little more than a playground for my soon-to-be-three year old daughter, was beckoning me to seize the moment.
"C'mon Ken...you know you want me!"
Oh, yes...and I would do it again!
Having finished mowing the grass, and my wife and daughter were still out shopping, I had nothing pressing that needed attended to at the moment, and I had to assist at a promotional event for the radio station I work for in a few hours later that day.  Surely I could lay out for a little bit?
Just a little bit.
Sunscreen?  No need...they'll probably be home in the next five minutes and my efforts will have been in vain.
I couldn't have possibly been out there more than an hour tops.
All I can remember is thinking that perhaps I should be next to that selection on the restaurant menu that says "Market Price".
O...M...G.
Ow.
This was just a preview of what was yet to come for the week.
The next day, I felt a soreness in my throat.  Margie had relapsed from a bout of strep throat Memorial Day weekend.
But I brushed it off as just another sore throat.  The following morning, I felt it intensifying, I had problems swallowing, and learned to like soup, as it went down pretty painlessly.
Much to my wife's chagrin, I might add.  She hasn't been able to stomach the smell of broth since her pregnancy.
My wife urged me to go to the doctor Wednesday after my energy was all but sucked dry.  Remembering that George Washington died of a simple bout of strep throat, I gladly called my doctor.
Fortunately, our family doctor is my age, so I have an appreciation for his dry humor.
"Ugh, it hurts just to look in there," he said into my gaping yap.
Uh, thanks???
He wrote me a scrip for Amoxycillin that he told me to get filled immediately and to take one as soon as I had it in hand.  I snatched it from his hands with a ravenous greed that would likely raise the eyebrows of a heroin addict.  That's how badly I wanted this out of me.
I got all three doses for the day in by bedtime.
Thursday I started to feel better.
Friday, I felt it was out of me.
Saturday, it was like nothing happened.
But now I have a toothache and a couple cold sores on my lips.
However, I can still get out of bed, I have ibuprofen, Orajel, and Campo-phenique as my besties for now.


NEXT WEEK:  Uh, didn't you read the last columns?  I'm off next week!