The Mystery of My Hangy-Ball Thingy
You ever have something weird happen to you? Of course you have. We all do. Don't feel weird about it. But most of the time there is some explanation. Something that makes you understand that maybe it wasn't that weird. Then the world is back to normal and everything is okay. However, sometimes something weird happens and it doesn't get explained. That's the worst! Me with my obsessive personality, I can't handle things like that. I just pore and pore over it looking for some sort of answer that never comes.
Take my hangy-ball thingy for instance. In case you're not familiar with my use of the proper medical term (hang-ball thingy), I'm talking about that little organ in the back of my throat between my tonsils. I added a picture of a "uvula" below so you have an idea of what I'm talking about.
My hang-ball thingy is a normal one. It functions however they are supposed to function. I've never had a problem with it. It minds it's business and hangs out with my tonsils. No issues.
The night in question started out as a regular night. I will never forget this night because it was the first night I would be hanging out with a few of Swedie's extended family. As you probably know by now, I'm quite the social butterfly. I was slightly anxious to meet more of the family. I was sure that I'd be a hit with everyone.
The dinner party would be at Swedie's aunt's place. I would get to meet her uncle that I now play basketball with. I met Birgitta for the first time at the party as well. She let me know IN SWEDISH that she would not be like everyone else who is happy to speak English with me. She would speak Swedish. Woah. What an introduction. Good thing I had done my Rosetta Stone lessons and knew some basic Swedish. I would have just nodded and smiled otherwise.
The party went well. The food was delicious. Swedie's aunt is such a good cook! I remember the salmon. There were thin slices of salmon. It looked raw to me. I had never seen anything like this before. Swedie explained to me that it is very common here. I chowed down. Everything was delicious. Eventually her uncle started feeding me cognac. Win!!! I got SO drunk. I even started reciting the limited Swedish that I knew.
- JAG ÄR MAT! JAG ÄR MAT!
Everyone was laughing at me. I was just saying that I was stuffed (mät) from the good food. What's that? Oh. They're laughing because I was saying I was food (mat). Of course I was sitting at the table, slapping my stomach and yelling in Swedish
- I AM FOOD! I AM FOOD!
Some social butterfly! They laughed though. I was drunk and happy. I ate some delicious cake. Swedie's aunt makes some delicious cake!
I don't remember how I got home, but I did. I woke up in the middle of the night trying to clear my throat. There was mucous in there and I just couldn't get it out. It must have sounded bad because it woke Swedie up. I was up on my elbows making hocking sounds as I stared, confused at my pillow. Why can't I get this mucous out? I felt it in the back of my throat and even on my tongue. Was this the loogie from hell? I reached back into my throat to get it. Nothing. What was going on? Swedie was rubbing my back now. This must have looked bad. She brought me some water. Good timing. I drank it down in a few gulps. I hocked again. Still in there. What the hell?!
I ran to the mirror to try and get a look at this stubborn glob of mucous. Maybe I could get at it with my toothbrush or something. I was not prepared for what I saw. My hang-ball thingy was resting on the MIDDLE of my tongue. I was scared as hell now. This shouldn't be humanly possible. How could this happen? I couldn't stop looking at it as I screamed out to Swedie. Try calling out someone's name without closing your mouth and you'll know just how ridiculous I sounded. I didn't care though. I was scared. Had it been the cognac? I had drunken way more cognac in the past and nothing like this happened. It must have been that damned salmon. I should never have eaten that pink mess! My mind was racing. I started reevaluating my entire life. The natural next step was to call my mom. She was in the medical field. She would know what to do.
- Moooom! My hangy-ball thingy is hanging down on the middle of my tongue!
She was pretty calm as mothers are in these situations. Besides the laughter. But she had a good idea. Crushed ice did the trick. After about half an hour my hang-ball thingy was back between my tonsils where it belongs. I still don't know what it was that triggered that kind of freaky reaction. I've eaten that salmon a million times since then (you should know by now that I don't learn) and have had no reaction, so that wasn't it. And needless to say, I've had much more cognac. Your guess is as good as mine what made my hang-ball thingy rest on my tongue like that. Feel free to entertain me with your suggestions. It still freaks me out just thinking about it. Until next time...
Take my hangy-ball thingy for instance. In case you're not familiar with my use of the proper medical term (hang-ball thingy), I'm talking about that little organ in the back of my throat between my tonsils. I added a picture of a "uvula" below so you have an idea of what I'm talking about.
My hang-ball thingy is a normal one. It functions however they are supposed to function. I've never had a problem with it. It minds it's business and hangs out with my tonsils. No issues.
The night in question started out as a regular night. I will never forget this night because it was the first night I would be hanging out with a few of Swedie's extended family. As you probably know by now, I'm quite the social butterfly. I was slightly anxious to meet more of the family. I was sure that I'd be a hit with everyone.
The dinner party would be at Swedie's aunt's place. I would get to meet her uncle that I now play basketball with. I met Birgitta for the first time at the party as well. She let me know IN SWEDISH that she would not be like everyone else who is happy to speak English with me. She would speak Swedish. Woah. What an introduction. Good thing I had done my Rosetta Stone lessons and knew some basic Swedish. I would have just nodded and smiled otherwise.
The party went well. The food was delicious. Swedie's aunt is such a good cook! I remember the salmon. There were thin slices of salmon. It looked raw to me. I had never seen anything like this before. Swedie explained to me that it is very common here. I chowed down. Everything was delicious. Eventually her uncle started feeding me cognac. Win!!! I got SO drunk. I even started reciting the limited Swedish that I knew.
- JAG ÄR MAT! JAG ÄR MAT!
Everyone was laughing at me. I was just saying that I was stuffed (mät) from the good food. What's that? Oh. They're laughing because I was saying I was food (mat). Of course I was sitting at the table, slapping my stomach and yelling in Swedish
- I AM FOOD! I AM FOOD!
Some social butterfly! They laughed though. I was drunk and happy. I ate some delicious cake. Swedie's aunt makes some delicious cake!
I don't remember how I got home, but I did. I woke up in the middle of the night trying to clear my throat. There was mucous in there and I just couldn't get it out. It must have sounded bad because it woke Swedie up. I was up on my elbows making hocking sounds as I stared, confused at my pillow. Why can't I get this mucous out? I felt it in the back of my throat and even on my tongue. Was this the loogie from hell? I reached back into my throat to get it. Nothing. What was going on? Swedie was rubbing my back now. This must have looked bad. She brought me some water. Good timing. I drank it down in a few gulps. I hocked again. Still in there. What the hell?!
I ran to the mirror to try and get a look at this stubborn glob of mucous. Maybe I could get at it with my toothbrush or something. I was not prepared for what I saw. My hang-ball thingy was resting on the MIDDLE of my tongue. I was scared as hell now. This shouldn't be humanly possible. How could this happen? I couldn't stop looking at it as I screamed out to Swedie. Try calling out someone's name without closing your mouth and you'll know just how ridiculous I sounded. I didn't care though. I was scared. Had it been the cognac? I had drunken way more cognac in the past and nothing like this happened. It must have been that damned salmon. I should never have eaten that pink mess! My mind was racing. I started reevaluating my entire life. The natural next step was to call my mom. She was in the medical field. She would know what to do.
- Moooom! My hangy-ball thingy is hanging down on the middle of my tongue!
She was pretty calm as mothers are in these situations. Besides the laughter. But she had a good idea. Crushed ice did the trick. After about half an hour my hang-ball thingy was back between my tonsils where it belongs. I still don't know what it was that triggered that kind of freaky reaction. I've eaten that salmon a million times since then (you should know by now that I don't learn) and have had no reaction, so that wasn't it. And needless to say, I've had much more cognac. Your guess is as good as mine what made my hang-ball thingy rest on my tongue like that. Feel free to entertain me with your suggestions. It still freaks me out just thinking about it. Until next time...
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