The post below was written on December 4:

I’ve been under the weather for more than three weeks now with a malady that started out as a sore throat, which soon went away but then manifested as head and chest congestion, and finally morphed into a cough that won’t go away. I’ve solicited—from colleagues and students—and tried all kinds of cough remedies: herbal tea for cough, marshmallows melted in hot milk, Broncolin cough drops, lemon juice and honey dissolved in hot water, and Histocil cough syrup. And I’m still coughing.

Now, however, the coughing mostly bothers me at night, waking me up so I don’t sleep well and am tired the next day.

Yesterday I had finally decided to see a doctor when Pery mentioned that I could get antibiotics at the pharmacy without a doctor’s prescription. “Hey, that’s right!” I thought, recalling that here in Mexico antibiotics can be bought over the counter!

And so, dismissing the adage that rang in my head—"A physician who treats himself has a fool for a patient”—I went to the internet and investigated the names of the two antibiotics and the generic version that Pery told me her husband and daughter had gotten from their doctors for symptoms similar to mine.

I found a website (in Spanish) that contains information on prescription medications in Mexico and read the indications, contraindications, dosage, and warnings for on all three drugs. Then I went to the pharmacy and asked for the cheapest one, which was the generic, for which I paid about $25.

I will take Sinufin twice a day for seven days, and by then I expect to be cured of this cursed cough and back to my jolly old self in time to enjoy the season of the Jolly Old Elf.

For any ESL teachers and students who might be reading this blog: Here’s a version of “The Night Before Christmas” you might find useful for practicing reading comprehension in English.

And tomorrow is (oy vey!) my 61st birthday. Pery organized a get-together at her house last Friday that she said was a celebration marking the end of the blogging workshop, which ended the previous Friday, but this get-together turned out to be a celebration of my birthday as well.

Everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to me and then “Las Mañanitas” (click on the link to read the lyrics and listen to the song) before we sat down at the table to enjoy pambasos, ensalada de frutas, gelatina, and a wonderful marble cake with cocoanut in the filling and lemon in the frosting. Oo-oo-oooh! It was delicious!

I had planned to go later to see a performance given by a musical group that includes a student of mine, Nelly, who dances and plays la tortuga, but as we were getting ready to leave, someone started dancing, and soon others were dancing, and finally even I was dancing.

And so I experienced what I’d heard about Mexican get-togethers—that people start dancing spontaneously and then, before you know it, it’s dawn. Well, our party ended much earlier than that, but it was so much fun to enjoy the music and watch everyone dance the salsa, merengue, mambo, and danzón.
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December 9, 2007
I have taken half the medication so far and am coughing much less, but I still feel tired and pretty energy-less. I hope I get my pep back soon.

More about my birthday...
Last Wednesday, on the actual day of my birthday, the office staff lined up to give me hugs when I arrived and to offer me felicitationes on my birthday. And before I left, I was called into the coordinator's office for a celebration that began with the staff and teachers' singing "Las Mañanitas" and was followed by cake and geletina and gorditas and more hugs.

An aside: Here in Xalapa, gelatina goes with cake like ice cream goes with cake in the U.S. And in my experience, the gelatin called for is something fancy, like mosaico de gelatina (jello mosaic), similar to what is seen in this picture. At first, I was surprised at this combination, but it's quite good and supplies the cold, creamy sweetness cake seems to call for. (Well, okay, it's we--not the cake--who call out it.)

And then, Margarita, Miriam, and Joaquín picked me up and took me to Coatepec for a birthday lunch at a charming restaurant called El Charco de la Rana (literally, the puddle of the frog) that specializes in trout. And that's what I had: trout in a delicious tamarind sauce. At the end of the meal, suddenly "Las Mañanitas" began to play over the sound system, and the mesero (waiter) brought me a piece of cheese cake with a candle in it.

I went through the motions of making a wish and blowing out the candle, but as I've been trying to explain, I already have my wish. I'm living it this moment, here in México.