Noah's Remedy

For the past four days I'd been hacking up yuck.

(Memorial Day's laryngitis turned from bad to worse.)

Along with prescribing antibiotics and codeine-laced cough syrup for bronchitis, my physician had advised: "Get it up and out!"

So tonight when I wheezed on intake, I did my best to expel the blockage. Moments later, my eight-year-old son asked, "Mom, what was it that you had taken out of your body?"

I cringed wondering what on earth Noah could be talking about. Then I remembered an operation I'd had as a first-grader to combat many lost school days and said, "You mean, my tonsils?"

"Oh," he nodded. For fun, I tried recalling other surgeries, came up with my teenage-orthodontic work and said, "And eight permanent teeth."

Noah's eyebrows raised. I thought again but couldn't remember any other anaesthesia treatments for body parts I'd lost. I smiled, "I think that's it. Right?"

Noah bowed his head and said, "Well, not unless you include us."

This time, I raised MY eyebrows: "What did you say?"

Lifting his head, Noah grinned, "Not unless you include US. We came out of you!"

I laughed – long and loud – before uttering, "So YOU three boys did come out of me!"

After tucking Noah into bed, I sat down to write about – not a loss but instead – a great gain in my times of pain. I remembered: "Laughter is the best medicine."

I like Noah's Remedy.