Milkshakes

Old-fashioned milkshakes are really good. A little milk, a little flavor, some ice cream, all thrown in an appropriate receptacle with a top and shaken like crazy. Mmm mm good!


It seems that some twisted researcher had the bright idea that this “shaken like crazy” thingy might be great for one’s lungs to vigorously help support expelling all the “nasty stuff” (a technical term) in a clogged set of lungs. Not to be dissuaded by my clear chest x-rays, a contraption arrived one day at the house. Its sole purpose is to wrap around my chest and shake hell out of my lungs. No sooner had this instrument of torture arrived, the manufacturer’s representative showed up to teach us how to inflict maximum annoyance, much to the delight of my caregiver and my wife.


The standard regimen is 20 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes in the afternoon. This device (no doubt designed by the Marquis de Sade himself), really rattles your teeth along with your lungs. So far, I have been able to convince my support team, with a promise to be on my best behavior, that 20 minutes in the morning is enough.