As usual, I will disclose that this tale may or may not be true. There are portions of truth, but I’m not gonna tell you which parts. I’m sneaky that way, Ha! No human, living or undead, were harmed in the making of this story…. Yet.
what's waiting for you at your local Urgent Care. From here
I’ve been sick. It will shock most of you to know that I’m not a good sick person. Essentially I want to be left alone to be miserable, until I want you to wait on me hand and foot. It IS all about me, geez! Why is that so hard? Anyway, I suspect that Dr. Healthy gave me this bug. I was in his germy office earlier in the week. I call him Dr. Healthy to protect his identity and to build his character as an ubber-healthy weird person. Like bike to work, jog during lunch and give up all sugar kinda healthy. I know, crazy, right?
To make matters worse, the hubs got sick the day after I did. And if I’m not a good sick person, I’m a horrible nursemaid. Even under the most ideal circumstances, I’m no Florence Nightingale. And my dislike for this job
most likely does exaggerate the truth - a bit. These two facts are probably what are holding me back from my true calling of being a world-renowned brain surgeon. That and I don’t like science – and I’m not that smart. But anyway…
So this created a two-fold problem. One, he isn’t available to cater to my needs. Which is not horrible because of my alone time requirements. But the second aspect is that he is needy – which DOES infringe on my alone time requirements. And I don’t mean “all men are needy” kinda needy. I mean…. Feel my head, I feel worse than you do, I think I should go to the ER, Something isn’t right, I hate being sick, I am sure I’m dying kinda whiney. He’s always very dramatic during illness or injury, and I’m pretty sure he believes there is a hidden camera around, and feels the need to give an Oscar winning performance (like Tom Hanks in Philadelphia) at all times. I called him a lost puppy one day. He just follows me around looking kinda lost leaving a trail of used Kleenex and empty medicine foil in his wake. Sad. Or Stalkerish…. So you can kinda envision my home this week.
The kids all take this in stride. They are wonderful girls. They help us, get drinks, go on Walgreen runs, etc. Stinker even offered to pick up the used Kleenex (don’t worry, I stopped her). But they also see the humor of it all. And they make fun of us. They clearly get that from me.
So after a day of him nearing the bright, white light, he decides to go to the Dr. I’m not a “dr. person” per say. I’ve been told way too often to “let it run its course”. Thanks to the former pediatrician… We’ll call him Dr. Retired to a huge island in the south pacific ….now I really buy into that crap for me. But the hubs felt that his deadly, much worse than mine, disease needed doctor consulting – clearly he wanted a doctor with a “medical license” and the ability to write prescriptions. Whateve!. So he went.
Now you should know that for two days, he’s suggested that we have strep. Beings that I’m almost a doctor (see above reference), I do not feel its strep but rather a virus. I did have to think back to recall if I had been bitten by any vampires, zombies, or rabid squirrels, but good news… no bites. The hubs has not been bitten either. Double good news – I would hate to have to care for a vampire… geez!
So he goes to the germ fest called Urgent Care (see above photo), and comes home to announce that…he has strep. Well, crap! Now he really does have something to whine about. I do another assessment with my mad Dr. skills and decide that I don’t think I would be getting better, which I was… slowly… if I had strep. So I decided to forgo the doctor… at least for the time being.
So fast forward to day four. I decide to venture to work and about 2, felt I could stay no longer. Since we were on day four, I decide I should call Doctor Healthy. I mean, he’s got a family to feed and all. I left a message with his nurse, and just as I suspected, she suggested I wait and look for improvement.
Good news. My classification as an informal doctor is still intact. (I get my knowledge from having three kids who went to the doctor A LOT and from watching lots of Mystery Diagnosis. Further good news, I don’t believe it’s an autoimmune disease, and it’s ALWAYS autoimmune disease on that show.) And I’m feeling better. I know this because I felt like outwardly criticizing America’s Got Talent tonight. And for the record, the one dude that sings like Sinatra... creeps me out! Like Burger King costume man creeps me out! Oh... Anyway And obviously Dr. Healthy agrees with my assessment or he doesn’t want me back in his office germing up the place. Or asking for prescription diet pills or medically necessary liposuction. Something about "not a healthy option"… whatever…. Health freak!