“Suck balls,” he says. 
“What?” I choke back the laughter.
“You heard me,” he repeats. “Suck balls. Sour balls. Or a lemon.”
Home remedies, saliva ducts, sour balls, lack of lemons. Last evening everything was “usual” until we were struck by our typically unusual “usual” – my son, just before dinner, emerged from his version of a Teen-Man-Cave and said: “Look under my tongue.”
OK. He’s an adolescent. I’m the mother. It could be his chem lab, or a joke. I’ll bite. It’s what mothers do.
I look, I see tongue, the icky slimy undersea world of stuff beneath. You know, what looks like mollusk innards. Also known as salivary glands. My, but it’s dark in there.
“And why am I doing this?”
“Something’s swollen,” he says. “And it hurts.” 
I send him for a flashlight, which he dutifully brings back – a huge industrial strength number we use for power outages. So I look. I wouldn’t know a salivary gland if I fell on one. Well, not right then. Twenty minutes later he was back, with a small bulge on his neck and a noticeably swollen area under his tongue.
Of course it’s eight at night and I’ve been up since 5 and beat, but he looks at me plaintively – not so much because he’s in pain – but he’s hungry. He’s 16. Eating is in the job description, and at the moment, he can’t eat.
So I resort to something I rarely do: internist husband of an old friend, father of four, good-natured if I can make him laugh. I call and ask if I’m interrupting dinner (he says no), I explain that the future mural painter of his personal Man Cave seems to have a swollen salivary gland and pregnant neck, that while it might not impair his artistic eye, in his weakened state (he couldn’t swallow) he was likely to be unable to embellish the one remaining undecorated wall in aforementioned manly private space.
He laughs, and says “suck balls.”
Huh?
When life gives you lemons, suck them
I reassure him my son is more annoyed (and hungry) than anything else, and he explains it’s probably a blocked salivary duct (we begin to Google), and repeats: “Suck balls. Sour balls. Lemons are best if you have them, so suck a lemon, and if not, something else sour.”
You have to love a home remedy. And a doctor with a Man Cave. And the $125 out-of-pocket he just saved me. I hope.
I thank him and begin to forage in the fridge and cabinet. No lemons. No sour balls. Oranges, apples, Butterfingers, Kit Kats, quarts of milk, bags of spinach. Ah. . . Real Lemon juice in those little lemony plastic containers. So I figure that’s worth a try, and I squeeze some in a paper cup and have my son sip, suck, pucker, and spit. (He rolls his eyes. He scrunches his face. He’s 16 going on six. He photographs his undertongular region. Chem lab? Facebook?)
I love home remedies. But a half hour later, still nada. Apparently Real Lemon juice for salivary glands won’t do it.
I put on my sweater, my shoes, my jacket, my scarf, my gloves, and grab the car keys.
“Preference?” I ask.
“Sour balls,” he says.
It’s late. The supermarket is farther than Target and Home Goods, and I figure I’ll give them a shot first for something sour to suck on. Lucky me. Some weird sour gummy something, and then an interminable line, and eventually, home. He sucks balls. And sucks balls. We put warm compresses on his neck. He goes to bed.
Monday, Monday. . . only it’s Tuesday
And it’s Tuesday morning and now we’re trying to find a doctor because though he sucked balls, apparently I should have driven to the market, for lemons. Thus my quick report. My kid is a sport. Now out on the trail for a doc with a sale. . .
I do hope the doc fixes up your son. My mom gets this all the time in the winter. She has to have an antibiotic to get it to go away. The salivary gland gets infected.
Good luck!
Ah, yes. Blocked duct. Tell him to keep sucking the sour stuff. It WILL go away. Takes a bit of time, but it will. Poor chap, he sounded quite helpless. Tell him to “gird up his loins,” as my grandmother would say and muscle through it.
Oh, your poor son! A swollen neck is painful! (And a pain in the butt.)
On another note, my husband has me look inside his mouth, with a flashlight, when he is in pain. Thought you’d like to know!
Thanks for the laugh this morning!! “Suck balls.” I would’ve died!! (With hysterical laughter of course!!)
Hope your son feels better, and soon.
You have such a knack for this type of writing: funny, in-the-moment, and the details, ah, those delicious (if slightly sour) details.
I have never heard of a blocked salivary gland. I hope that your son is better soon.
Also, I love that your son is doing a mural. I love those personal touches in a home.
Catchy title.
Did you ever see the Saturday Night Live sketch with Alex Baldwin whose family made Christmas candy balls and his last name was “Sweaty”? He was doing a “radio interview” with two of the members of the cast, it was hilarious. They couldn’t stop laughing. He said his family had been known for generations for their Sweaty balls.
It’s certainly been an interesting few hours. . .
Yeah, well, we went the doctor route this morning, and a long (and interesting) one it was. Antibiotics, soup, salt water, and a few other sources of unexpected entertainment. . . Murphy Murphy everywhere, won’t you tumble down a stair? Lace your boots and head out West? Strike at someone who’s less stressed????
He’s got the real pain in the butt now.
(Shhhh, I mean shhhh… he’d be blushing and how.)
Ouch to Nurse Needle who smiled sweet and sainted,
cool until Kiddo keeled over and fainted…
OK not quite; Doc caught him in time,
“oh yeah this is common” she said without rhyme.
DAMN, the poor thing was one dizzy weak teen,
head on his knees and his face a pale green…
Couldn’t stand up (he’s way bigger than me),
Doc half hauled him to little room Three,
So we did a stay, a wee longer than planned,
school for the day – that idea, canned.
Kid on a table, stretched out and eyes closed
Doctor who held his legs up – what a pose!
Teen was embarrassed but too sick to mutter,
Surrounded by nurse, and doctor, who uttered:
“This will get blood to run back to your head”
Says kid: “My dignity back, how bout that instead?”
Jeez, I cannot believe that I missed Sweaty Balls! Given Testosterone House all these years, I’m guessing there would’ve been laughter til tears.
Personally, I would have grabbed the butterfingers and kitkats and tried them just in case! Hope you found some sour balls or a doc, hope he’s feeling better. Tell him we’re sorry to have gotten a chuckle today at his expense!
Hope he gets better soon! I’m a big fan of grapefruit rind tea, and gargling with warm salt water. But if he’s got something, he’s got something.
Well Linda, you’re not alone. I’d managed 18 years of parenting before hitting this one. Never knew you could get a blocked salivary gland either. Go figure. . . What next??
I hope nothing!
You’ve had your share lately. I hope that the two of you have a restful evening.
yikes! that does not sound fun at all.. and at his age to go without food is pure starvation. Good luck to you both
Get some sleep! What a horrible day. Let’s hope tomorrow is better.
be well in your househould
If laughter is the best medicine at least that medicine cabinet is well stocked in your abode. Healing wishes nonetheless.
Bless his heart. Bless your heart. I’m sending wishes for a speedy recover and absolutely no more needles.
This post made my mouth water!
SNL’s Schweddy Balls skit with Alec Baldwin! A classic! Yes, how appropriate. It never ceases to amaze me how our adolescent children find such unusual illnesses. It must be a part of the transformation that happens. Raging hormones move mountains! Hope all is well. Keep us updated! Instead of sucking balls, maybe try licking blowpops