The FLS Syndrome

Several, several years ago I was being treated by a wonderful herbalist, in addition to my Western doctors. My first visit, after his examination, I asked him if I was dying. He said no, but he told me that he was surprised I was still standing up.  My reply was that I wasn’t, really, but that I forced myself. I had a daughter in college, and, well, it was expensive, even with her scholarship and student loans. His reply was, “You’re still working??????” I replied that, ummmmm, well, yes. (Note to others: I would not recommend this. I would not be this sick if I had been willing to stop work several years before my health forced me to. But I could not figure out how we could make ends meet without my salary. More on this another day.)

Well, after my herbalist and I got all of this out of the way, he finally said, “You have what is known as the FLS Syndrome, or FLSS.”

“The what?”

“FLSS. Feels Like S*it Syndrome.”

With that, our relationship was cemented, and he treated me for 10 years.

Yesterday, I did get 5 things from my bathroom thrown away. But then I went out in the heat and did some necessary errands. Aaaaannndd…. came home with FLSS. Went right to bed and stayed there. Then stayed there most of today. Have to, have to, have to go get the smog check on the car or I will owe a huge fine to DMV.  But, darn, do I have a bad case of FLSS.

So, take care of yourselves this weekend, and I’ll be back Monday.

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