Phenylephrine

Phenylephrine. Know what that is? It's a placebo. Right now I have something like the flu. Or just a really bad cold. All I know is that I went from a tenor to a bass in 12 short hours and my sinuses are so plugged I can almost hear.

Pseudoephedrine, that's the good stuff. That's the stuff that works. But can you get it? It's out there, somewhere. Hiding. It's hiding because it's afraid. Let's go over why.

Drug company: "Here's a new drug you can use when you feel sick."
Sick people: "Yay, it works!"
Stupid guy that makes meth: "Works for me, too!"
Drug company: "er..."
Congress: "Hey, you're selling a meth ingredient!"
Not sick people: "Boo!"
Drug Company: "This is bad PR. Here, let's change the ingredient from the one that works to one that doesn't."
Stupid guy that makes meth: "Doesn't work any more."
Sick people: "Doesn't work for me, either"

In this play, I perform the role of "Sick people". Right now, I am BOOING. BOO you stupid companies for selling placebos, BOO you stupid meth junkies that can't just huff paint like the other bumpkins. BOO congress for sticking it's nose in.

It's a strange sickness. No headache... no aches at all really. Just so very stuffed up. Can't breathe through my nose, ears plugged, head's a little woozy. In some places in my meaty form, all appears to be well. Others, things are pensive, with worried looks crossing the faces of those that understand while the youngsters play about. Yet other places, the encroaching conqueror has made life miserable, oppressing all and enslaving the populace to do their bidding.


Help me Pseudoephedrine, you're my only hope.