Monday, September 27, 2010
It wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her
Have you ever swallowed a fly? I have, a time or two. The nasty thing about flies (and I'm talking the real deal, not those insubstantial no-see-'ums, dozens of which I probably inhaled during my run this morning) is that they don't just go straight down.
First, they stick in your throat. Flies are astonishingly spiky, so they feel like particularly bristly burrs, and your first reaction is to hack and cough and spit and hack again. To no avail, usually. And meanwhile, you're certain that this fly may emit some kind of corrosive poison, which will cause your throat to close up. Death by Fly is NOT what you want your death certificate to say.
Because the fly won't come up, and because its presence in your throat is intolerable, you decide to swallow it down. This is not a decision lightly made, as the thought of a fly buzzing in your stomach is only slightly less horrifying than the reality of 6 sharp little legs and 2 wings lodged in your throat, but in desperation, you swallow convulsively. And swallow, and hack, and swallow - and is your throat closing up? Is a poison even now coursing through your bloodstream? Could that have been a bee??
Finally, the fly can no longer be felt in your throat, having quietly dropped down into your stomach during all the panic and uproar.
By that time, you're so relieved at not being able to feel that prickly lump in your throat that you go on with your day. Unless, of course, you're the Old Lady. And really, I can't really blame her for her unorthodox and ultimately deadly cure for a swallowed fly. A desperate situation calls for desperate measures.
Posted by Eva M