Phlegm me tell you something...

I should be better...but I'm not. I feel better, have an appetite, and only maintain a 101 degree temp. But when I try to lay down to sleep, my lungs begin to sound like the submarine in Operation Petticoat. So, then I need to sit up, hug my ribcage like it was trying to go somewhere without me and cough up some colorless matter into Cowboy Blob's Ever-Growing Mountain of Kleenex. I know...Ewwww. But the lack of color means no infection, right? I mean, I've coughed up some green blobs during the worse bouts of bronchitis I've had. Okay, I'll stop this gross talk...Lt. Crandall is coming by for my sponge bath.