No I have not gotten lost in Caroline’s room, fallen under a large piece of furniture, or even finally lost the battle to the militant dust bunnies that for years have been gathering strength in numbers under my living room couch...I have been laying on my "couch of death."
The Saturday night after Christmas, I kissed my loving husband goodnight, and said "I am getting sick, I can feel it."
I will never utter those words again, because apparently they are the key words that open a crevice in the earth to let out the wrath of germ warfare. I woke the next day with a raging fever, and what I can only describe as a tribe of ice picks having a luau in my chest...I am fairly sure that at one point they were doing the lung limbo, but one is never sure of these things with out an at home X-ray machine.
Needless to say, my doctor was on vacation, and her substitute must have had me black listed because he refused to see me twice....
Dr. Major from York Hospital...you are definitely going somewhere HOT in the afterlife for this tryst of yours, I am writing a personal recommendation.
My husband, who in general is the boy scout of peacemakers, actually called and got mad because I was lying in a puddle on our couch crying and saying “just kill me, seriously, make it quick and just do me in.” He fussed at the doctors office for putting him in a place of such temptation…there should be laws about that kind of thing.
I had an interview on Monday the 5th…surely I would be better by then…RIGHT? It was over a week away.
NOPE, I went to my interview with a 101.8 fever, and feeling like breathing was a little more exercise then I really needed…But I coughed through it and haven’t heard anything…I am guessing a sweaty hacking person in a business suit doesn’t impress much…but you never know!
I am glad to say that my Dr. came back from vacation and took me in, and gave me lots of medicine…antibiotics, cough medicine with Codeine, inhalers…I didn’t bother to tell her that she should be giving me a script for house cleaners and cooks, since it was her cohorts fault that it was all I could do to muster the energy to open my eyes, and my family was drowning in dirty underwear.
So I took to my couch, where I have peeled off now and again to feed the kids or some other menial task, I haven’t written…but I am back.
Still hacking, still a tad feverish….2 flippin’ weeks later, but I figure at some point one of us, either the germs or me will have to give in…until then, I miss being sarcastic and snarky, so I will just have to hack through some typing.
Happy Freaking New Year to you all!