Every two or three years I get a bad case of bronchitis. As health problems go, it's a minor inconvenience. And for that I count my blessings. But I don't want to give bronchitis a bad name, after all it's not without its compensations.
You see, to alleviate the congestion in my lungs and the pain associated from my heavy duty industrial coughing, my doctor prescribes me the most wonderful medicine known to mankind, Promethazine w/codeine.
I'm not really sure what the Promethazine does.
But I do know what the codeine does, so who cares about the Promethazine.
It's merely the goblet in which the sweet nectar of the gods comes in.
If you're curious, like I was, you can look up codeine on any number of pharmaceutical reference sites. Side effects of codeine include mild euphoria. That's hardly a downside. If you ask me, we could use a little more euphoria in the world. The side effect is when the euphoria fades away and there's still dirty dishes in the sink and unpaid bills in the unpaid bill box.
I've been through so many bouts with bronchitis that I've become quite discerning in my cough medicine selection. A few years ago, perhaps during a shortage of promethazine, I was prescribed Tussionex w/codeine.
Tussy, as it it is known on the streets, has a fruity finish and packs a higher concentration of 3-methylmorphine. Not only are the effects more intense, they last longer. This is the Dom Perignon of the medicine cabinet. If you ever get a bad cough, or you can fake one, ask your doctor to prescribe you some Tussionex.
2005 was a particular good year.
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