I hate hiccups.
Just about every meal I’ve had, I have the tendency to wolf down my food. I just munch on a spoonful once or twice and quickly swallow it. Within minutes, the waves of hiccups will come. That is the cue for my mom to chide my bad eating habits. But old habits die hard, and the hiccups continue to bother me.
Why are they even a thing? They are annoying, unnecessary and have served no purpose for as long as I am alive. At random, my body sometimes decides “Oh hey, have some hiccups!”
Believe it or not, I am having the hiccups as I am typing this.
We have good old remedies to help us out. But be honest, there are days when they stubbornly refuse to go away. Even after drinking warm water, scaring myself, thumping my chest, holding my breath, pressing the space between the thumb and index ringer AND holding my breath.
Aside from the discomfort, you have to deal with that tiny bit of embarrassment that comes along with it. Anyone will look silly in public with his or her body spazzing to a rhythm constantly. Unless you find it cute. Thankfully my hiccups are not loud enough to attract attention. I count myself lucky I’m not among those who follow up ‘hics’ and ‘hupps’ with a disgusting belch.
I don’t know why I am ranting about this. I shouldn’t be complaining considering that there are others who have to endure worse. Just Google “Charles Osborne” and you’ll be looking at a man who lived with the hiccups for 68 years. How in the world did he live through those years? How did he even sleep?!
At least he entered the Guinness Book of World Records. It seemed he managed to live a normal life too. Me? I would probably go insane.
Also, I think my hiccups have stopped.