Plastic Not So Fantastic

Last weekend, Ken and I took advantage of the warm fall weather and made a lovely barbecued steak dinner, with roast potatoes and Caesar salad. I was almost finished eating when something caught in my throat. I started to cough but no matter what I did, I couldn’t dislodge it. I figured it was a peppercorn from the sauce and that I would swallow it eventually. It was still bothering me later that night and I started to poke around with my toothbrush—luckily I don’t have a sensitive gag reflex—but I couldn’t feel anything. I tried looking in the mirror but I couldn’t see anything either. I woke up the next morning and it still felt like something was stuck in the back of my throat. And to make things worse, I had a terrible headache and my allergies had kicked into high gear. I was super stuffed up and my face felt swollen. This went on all weekend, and then on Monday morning, I was getting ready for work. I felt another terrible tickle in my throat, coughed hard, and then I felt something in my mouth. I reached in, pulled it out…AND IT WAS A PIECE OF PLASTIC. Like, a piece of plastic you might find in the packaging, say, of a Caesar salad kit. I put it on the tip of my finger to better examine it. It was kind of twisted, and weird, and as I simultaneously went to reach for my reading glasses and yelled for Ken, the damn thing fell off the top of my finger and disappeared.

Ken: What’s wrong?
Me: I… there was…aw f*ck! I was going to show you the piece of plastic that was stuck in my throat but it vanished.
Ken: Plastic? Seriously?
Me: Well, I’d show you and prove it but it flew off my finger and disappeared.
Ken: Suuuure, honey. Let me know if you find it. Are you feeling better now?
Me (mentally taking stock of my feelings and being pleasantly surprised): Yes, I am—it doesn’t feel like I have anything in my throat anymore.

And not only that, my allergies began to calm down—by the end of the day, I was completely back to normal. Normal enough, anyway. But having a piece of plastic embedded in the back of your throat isn’t something I recommend.

In other news, Ken and I are toying with the idea of selling our house and downsizing, so we had a real estate friend come through the other night to tell us what we might need to do to get the house ready for showing, i.e. what furniture and objets d’art would have to be removed. It went as well as expected:

Real Estate Agent: The kitchen seems fine, except for that table by the door.
Me: But that’s the table I use for my purse…
REA: Can you use something else? And what about this trunk and random leather doctor’s bag in the corner?
Me: Well, it’s an “arrangement” but I was planning on selling it–it doesn’t serve any real purpose aside from being pretty, I suppose…

In the family room:

Ken: What about this wall of paintings? A little too much?
Me: Shut up, KEN.
REA: No, artwork is fine…are those ALL Paris?
Ken: Sigh. Yes. They’re all Paris.
Me: It’s a “theme”. Just wait until she sees all the Lego in your bathroom, KEN.
REA: Lego in the bathroom?
Ken: I’m not allowed to decorate with plastic anywhere else in the house.
Me: Don’t talk to me about plastic right now, KEN.

42 thoughts on “Plastic Not So Fantastic

  1. That’s really kind of awful/gross/scary about the plastic in the throat. On the bright side, it wasn’t an earwig entering one ear and eating through your brain to exit the other ear–but very similar.
    Sorry. Halloween.
    And I say this with total lack of irony: good luck with the downsizing. Blog fodder for months. Years maybe. I’ve downsized several times. It’s like quitting smoking.

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  2. PS: The key to making your comments section let me comment without it refusing my login attempts and generally acting up. I was “navigating” to your post via the link supplied in the email I get each time you post. But if I simply type the URL in and then click on the post title, it all works. It’s all very weird.

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  3. Eww, plastic stuck in your throat? How did that even happen? I mean I’m sure that happens to everyone only we don’t know it. I’m kinda sad you and Ken are thinking about selling your house. Many a blog post revolved around you beautiful house. Are those vintage cameras at the bottom of the picture of your Wall O’ Paris? Lol

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  4. There’s too much plastic out there. And I don’t know why Ken didn’t believe you. It’s not at all surprising that a bit of plastic would find its way into a Caesar salad kit and then into your throat. And just imagine if it had been sentient plastic, like what shows up in some Doctor Who stories. Probably best not to think about it too much, though.
    And good luck with the downsizing. I just hope you keep the table for your purse. And the Paris pictures. You’ll always have Paris pictures.

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  5. My gosh! I’m glad you were able to dislodge that—how scary that scrap cause the reaction it did! The thought of downsizing is more than my ego could manage—having someone come in to point out all my PERFECTLY PLACED crap I don’t need. In seriousness, you’re wise to be planning ahead.

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  6. Regarding moving. Just wait ‘till the REA tells you you have too many books! I remember having to put half my house in storage, buying candles and other stuff I don’t need to decorate the bathroom, polishing the kitchen counters with pledge. Upside: I sold the house in 2 weeks, because it looked like a hotel…

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  7. Just a few days ago I was adding spice to a sauce (from a little capped bottle), and saw something fall into it. I searched with a spoon, couldn’t find it and thought it was just my idea. A few days later, a piece of plastic in my food. It was part of the cap. At least it was me who found it, not someone else.

    I love the wall of paintings!

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  8. so glad you’re better – if only all our health probs could be solved as neatly. last year I had tiniest post nasal drip cough that kept me awake for months. finally figured out that it was from the small irritation of taking melatonin powder before bed… wishing you the best with your home sales. looks lovely!

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  9. I know you’ve talked about how great your immune system is and it seems as if it was responding to that piece of plastic with allergy type symptoms. So glad you were able to get rid of it.
    We are going through the downsizing thing as well while planning for the new house. Question: just how many oil lamps do we really need?

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  10. That’s awful about the plastic, Suzanne. I’m glad it came out because it seemed like it was pushing your body into some sort of physical reaction. And LOL on the house. A realtor would have a field day here. I’d have to rent a storage unit to clear out all my stuff for a showing. Best of Luck!

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  11. Ugh, I’m glad you managed to get that plastic out. It could have ended up being life threatening if it caused those allergies. 😦 Oh, and I love Paris. Nice wall!

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  12. Oh, my gosh — you might sell that wonderfully spooky old house you live in?! I’m actually kind of sad, because I’d always hoped I’d get a chance to visit it, but I totally support the idea of downsizing. My wife and I live in a simple two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment. It’s all the space we need, and it’s easy to keep tidy; we wouldn’t really want more space than this. Having less — less space, less stuff — means have more time and attention to invest in other things.

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  13. The business with the plastic is rather alarming. How on earth!! Anyway, glad to hear it dislodged without a trip to the doctor or equivalent.

    I agree with the previous commenter who said how lovely your Paris wall is. It’s serene and uplifting, and I might copy you.

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