Sadly, this isn't like Momastery "Carpe Diem" viral..I'm talking literally viral.
Friday morning I decided to head over to the Urgent Care clinic since my "cold" wasn't getting any better. I just felt icky, in general, and for someone who rarely gets sick, that's not cool. So I said goodbye to the angels, one of whom bade me farewell with these words: "I can't believe you're going to go pay someone to tell you that you have a COLD".
Take that, angel o' mine. Your mama has a legit illness. Kind of. The final verdict was "It may be pneumonia, or it may just be a nasty viral illness." Either way, treatment was the same: fluids, Tylenol, rest.
I dread going to the doctor. I don't know why..I think it may be the fear of that initial intake procedure by the nurse. She eyes up one of my upper arms, and then slyly reaches for the "extra long" blood pressure cuff. You know, the one they could wrap around a redwood tree and still have a little flap left over. Sigh. When that happened yet again on Friday, I sort of shrugged and said, "You know, even when I'm skinny I still have bigger arms. So does Julia Roberts. I read that in People magazine once." The kind nurse smiled and wrote something on my chart. Probably, "Patient might need a psych eval". Or it could have been, "Does she realize that when her mouth moves, sounds that people can hear come out?". Kind nurse beat a hasty retreat, but not before telling me to take off my clothes and put on a gown.
I paused for a moment, thinking about the Yeti forests that used to be my legs (oh sweet freedom of sleeping alone) and asked, "Take off everything?"
She looked back over her shoulder and said, "From the waist up, honey." Phew.
The doctor was a nice looking older gentleman. Strike that. Every time I use the word "older" to describe someone, it's inevitable that I later learn they are about the same age as yours truly. So let me start over: The doctor was a nice looking man of a middle-ish, not elderly at all, age. He was pleasant to me, didn't hit on me even though I was wearing a super sexy, too-small zebra striped bra under my gown, and didn't take this opportunity to tell me that "losing a few pounds probably wouldn't hurt".
He also didn't throw anything at me when I answered the standard "are you pregnant" question with the very original, "Oh ha ha now that would be a Christmas miracle! HA HA HA HA!!". Doctor friends, how do you stop yourself from stabbing people in the eyes with tongue depressors when you hear that one for the millionth time? You know what...next time, I'm going for the shock response. When the unsuspecting Doc asks me, "Okay, and I have to ask this next one, are you pregnant?" I'm going to pat my belly and say, "Yes! How did you know? It was a total surprise but we are thrilled beyond belief!"
So he examined me and then sent me for a chest x-ray, which "kind of" showed that I "might" have pneumonia. But not the kind that needs drugs, sadly. I'm not big on pharmaceuticals but sometimes just the act of having a prescription filled makes one feel like they're on the road to recovery.
He sent me home with instructions to
Drink plenty of fluids
I didn't hear him actually say to "sit on the couch, watch every single thing on t.v. and milk this vague diagnosis for all it's worth until your kids are back in school" but that's what I decided to do. I'm not one to send my kids packing for big guilt trips very often but when the opportunity not only presents itself, but climbs into your lap and hands you the remote...you'd best just go along with it.
And by the way, OMG, GAME OF THRONES. Hopelessly sucked into that one. What's that? Did the good middle aged doctor write me a prescription for HBO?
No...you may recall that I recently sold my soul to Comcast again, after being cable-free for six month. Well, turns out they gave us a faulty box and when I called to bitch about it (in a very friendly way) the guy on the other end gave me HBO and Showtime free for a few months. Sweet! Needless to say I have been taking advantage of my "old farm lady" wake up time of 5:15 by watching Game of Thrones before the kids wake up. Only because it's Renaissance Porn. I'm done with both seasons now but cannot wait to see what happens: Will Queen Bitchy Face become a full blown wino? Will the crazy prisoner lady who looks like Jillian Michaels save the crippled Stark boy? Will Pinchy Face Joffrey get his skinny ass kicked? Will I learn the real names of the characters before Season 3 starts? All of that remains to be seen. Also, I'm finding myself wondering what a midget looks like naked.
On that note, I must sign off now. There are only about 8 hours left of winter break and the guilt-tripping must continue. Plus, I've stumbled across old episodes of The Mentalist.
You all take some Vitamin C, and stay healthy.