I have spent much of the week in bed suffering, with Hades my possible next stop, bereft of God, fighting the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Nevada version.
Ragweed, sagebrush, Russian thistle and rabbit brush. Especially rabbit brush.
Yes, this evil quartet can wreck one's life, at least for a few weeks in the fall, and leave one thinking Revelations is coming to pass.
Behold, the white horse, the man that rideth on him is called Death, and Hell follows with him.
Rabbit brush is the white horse. It causes your nose to run, but you can fight him with the Angel Zyrtec. Then it causes your eyes to grow itchy and watery, and nothing short of heaven will help.
Trouble is, when you look up to heaven for help, you get an eyeful of rabbit brush pollen.
Pollen counts are up this year, but I didn't need to pay attention to the weatherman to know that.
Last year, I got a steroid shot the last week of August, took the Zyrtec before I went to bed, kept the animals out of the bedroom, changed the sheets and pillowcases every night, washed my hair every night and sailed through allergy season as if the Angel Gabriel was standing with his sword guarding my sinuses and eyes.
This year, Angel Gabriel seems to be on holiday.
I got some eyedrops from my doctor, which worked for awhile, then when I ran out, they wouldn't refill my prescription by phone. The nurse at the office said I had to come in. For allergies I get every single year, and they have that in their records, I need a complete physical.
Personally, I think they insist on my coming in because they can charge my insurance company more for an office visit than a prescription phone-in. If I didn't have insurance, I'll bet that prescription would be at the pharmacy post haste.
Weather.com says the pollen count in Virginia City is finally falling, so hopefully I can recover without giving in to what I consider a form of blackmail by the medical profession.
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Speaking of the esteemed (ahem) medical profession, I did a column awhile back complaining about why it was so hard to find and keep a good doctor in Nevada, and wondered if it was the same in other states.
There were a lot of response to that column, both through e-mail and in the letters to the editor, with some praising their doctors, others blaming insurance companies and others agreeing with me.
For those who praised their doctors, please e-mail me their names and locations. I think it may be time for one last change.
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This week is Street Vibrations, or Thunder on the Comstock in Virginia City, when many locals decide to go away for the weekend to avoid the drone of motorcycles.
I don't. I actually enjoy the spectacle, at least for awhile. Take enough allergy meds and it seems rather surreal.
Actually, I'm part of Thunder on the Comstock, and it has nothing to do with beads. I am in charge of ordering and placing the many Port-o'Johns we have ready to provide relief to beer-drinking bikers. Some have said that makes me the second-most important person in town, after the guy who delivers the beer.
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Speaking of johns, the week after this is the World Championship Outhouse Races and would you believe I have a part in this, too? I am a helper and gofer, plus I have three outhouses on wheels stored in my driveway. Hey, the heart goes where the mind is.
Virginia City is looking for more outhouse racers than last year, when we had about 11 or 12, so for those with a little mechanical skill, put one together and join in the fun. The Plungerettes alone are worth the entry fee.
For those who can't build an outhouse but have the stamina and mindset to race an outhouse or form a team, the three outhouses belong to the Virginia City Chamber of Commerce and can be loaned out. All you have to do is show up and push.
Contact reporter Karen Woodmansee at kwoodmansee@nevadaappeal.com or call 881-7351.