Daughter and I ran off to Londra last week to eat bacon and to shop (and more importantly to get a stamp in my passport to keep my NSW driver’s licence current). I ate the bacon as Daughter recently decided that she is a vegetarian and apparently all things pork fall under that category. I tried to explain to her that bacon is exempt from that whole “meat” deal because it is serious manna from heaven but then I realised that with her not eating bacon there is just so much more for me.
While I ate bacon and Daughter impressed me (and our bank manager) with her ability to spend more money in a day than than the national debt of a small African country The Turk stayed behind to hold down the fort and to look after My Hurley Dog.
Returning home I found my home spick and span (and apparently sans leaks), My Hurley Dog freshly coiffed and smelling like a daisy field but The Turk was looking decidedly worse for wear. What could possibly have happened to have caused him to look like he had just been spat out by a raptor? One only had to take a look at his sad puppy dog eyes and his droopy expression to realise that the next few days were going to be a trial for all of us (even with separate residences). The Turk’s symptoms were clear. I put on my doktor cap and immediately diagnosed him with the dreaded Turkish Man Flu or TMF.
Up front let me just say that TMF is a much more severe form of the generic and more common Man Flu, but not to be confused with similar strains of Him-fluenza, Bro-chitis or Dude-onic Plague. TMF needs to be dealt with swiftly so as to not become a much more severe problem. Why is TMF such a problem? Well because the man in question is Turkish of course (and don’t start bombarding me with nasty comments I will merely delete them).
To help you identify this dreadful disease and to help with the recovery of your patient (and your sanity) I have compiled this list of helpful hints:
Symptoms may include sullen (or more sullen than normal) behaviour followed by the self-diagnosis that he is obviously dying. An almost paranoia-like fear of mockery, inability to recognise sarcasm and his staunch belief that everyone is out to get him, the Illuminati does in fact control the world and aliens walk amongst us (FYI this is an example of the sarcasm that he will fail to recognise). You will need to contend with his inability to ‘soldier on’ (hell the remote on his lap is too far away) and his constant need of reassurance from you of his current chances for survival (Slim mate! Slim!). Of course the most common symptom of TMF is his absolute certainty that nobody has ever suffered like this. Ever.
Ladies be aware that any lack of compassion on your part will put your patient’s life in danger. You need to be Florence Nightingale. For brownie points get out your sexy nurse uniform that you wore for Halloween all those years ago. Really. It will alleviate symptoms within minutes. Fact.
Oh and don’t you go running off to the doktor for the infamous ‘serum’ or 15 different types of antibiotics. This will not help you one little bit. This will only ensure the extension of TMF. What will alleviate symptoms is keeping your suffering patient’s çay glass full and ensure that Kemal Sunal is on the television. Turkish doctors have discovered that the dulcet *cough, cough* voice of Kemal Sunal has remarkable healing powers. I swear!
Other remedies include *paça veya iskembe çorba (never gonna happen) or maybe that secret herbal çay that only his mother can prepare. Import his mother. Does’t matter where she is, doesn’t matter if you have to fly her in … do it! If unable to supply said mother get any teyze that is available to prepare some unknown and most likely disgusting broth (in her house ‘cause the smell of that soup cooking will make you gag for days!).
Incidentally The Turk did survive the dreaded TMF … but only just. I think a caring wife can give their man 48 hours of sympathy and if they are not back to their normal self then you throw him to the goats!
* paça veya iskembe çorba Paça çorba is better known as Sheep Head soup while Iskembe çorba is tripe. I would rather chew off my own leg than eat either soup but it is the only thing that will sooth The Turk when he is suffering from TMF. I get Songul to make it and yes I can still smell it from two floors away!
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I think you may have just identified the first advantage of being a Turkish widow.