Antibiotics as Mood Elevator
This post is off topic but not Off Topic.
I have bad days. Everyone does. Then, I have a few in a row. Bleh. Then, the universe is rude to me and I am prostrate. I wallow. I nap during the day and have insomnia at night. I know I’m ungracious and ungrateful and oversensitive. Knowing this does not help me be less so. I am lethargic to the point of paralysis. I collapse into sobbing fits and surf for information on depression.
At about this point, I discover that I have a low-grade infection in my head. For a while it was the Tooth That Would Not Die [Hi There, Regular Programming]. For the last three summers, it’s been swimmer’s ear [Midwestern Mounts]. You would think by now I would recognize the signs. But no. The decline is gradual and perspective is the first casualty.
There is no pain until a) it flairs into Technicolor life and I spend the holidays screaming (this has happened twice), or b) I take the meds and notice the mild but chronic pain by its absence. Once the infection is gone, the world is no more inclined to bend to my will, but I am more inclined to cope.
Despite ancient Greek philosophy inherited by Western culture, I wonder if the mind/body dichotomy exists at all. Ill-health makes us cranky. Placebos have powerful effects.
Which is by way of apology to anyone who has had to interact with me recently.
(Stray thought. The phrase “western culture” is Atlantocentric, isn’t it? The world is round. The Far East is equally the Far West. Also, the idea of a country being “Far” carries its own assumptions. After a while, it become impossible to speak. Don’t get me started on the fig leaf that is BCE. But I digress.)