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The Bubble

September 5, 2013

I am spending the day in my own personal bubble.

I must.

Ragweed, one of the five-star generals in my personal army of allergens, has burst onto the battlefield with a vengeance.

Its army of billions is attacking me from all sides.

My only option is to hunker down, ride out the barrage, and remain inside this box that I call home…windows shut tight, fans turned off, and air purifiers humming on high.

I have armed myself with antihistamines and decongestants, nasal spray and Neti pot. Both Zyrtec and Singulair claim that they will relieve my symptoms for a full twenty-four hours. They don’t, but even so, I would hate to face a day like this without them in my system, doing battle on the front lines, minimizing my symptoms.

I go to the pharmacy to purchase additional reinforcements.

I sit in a chair and pretend like I am waiting for a prescription to be filled while others are being served.

Finally, when there are no customers within earshot, I approach the clerk and whisper my request. My throat is scratchy and my voice gravelly. ‘I’d like some generic Sudafed, please. The big box,’ I say as I dab at my red, watering eyes and runny nose.

‘Well, yes…of course. It’s a bit of a process though, you know,’ She replies as she discreetly looks me over.

I know the drill…and I dig into my purse in search of my drivers’ license. Once again, my transaction will be recorded and tracked. If I purchase too much Sudafed, the authorities will be alerted.

I can see it now…

My house is surrounded by officers with weapons drawn as I sit inside unaware, working a jigsaw, wiping my nose and clearing my throat. When all possible exits are covered, the sheriff saunters up the steps and casually knocks on the door.

I answer his summons, probably looking quite bewildered. He interprets that to be a guilty appearance. My home is searched from basement to attic as I am detained in the kitchen. The garage and every shed are also ransacked in the name of justice.

The law officers carefully look over every inch of my property for whatever paraphernalia is used in a meth lab.

They leave empty-handed, maybe disappointed…until one of them sneezes and I recognize the familiar symptoms.

I offer the allergy sufferer a dose of Sudafed.

Perfectly legal, I think. Just one human being helping another…right?

Then they read me my rights and slap on the cuffs as one uniformed officer opens the back door of the squad car and another assists me inside.

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