So I went in and they took my temperature and said, “Oh ya, you’ve got a fever there.”
Then we discussed symptoms and they went, “Tsk! Tsk!”
Then I whined something about “make it go away now, please” and they said, “HAHAHAHA! Oh gracious, dear, you’re way past the window for antiviral medication and we’re far too understocked to just give it out anyway! You’ll just have to ride this one out, ha ha ha.”
At this point, I said, “Well! OK! Glad we had this little chat, good seeing everybody, I’ll just be going now!” and tried to weasel my way out the door before anybody could remember that I was overdue for having my lab work done.
Aaaaaaaaaand the good doctor threw himself in front of the door and barked, “HOLD IT!”
Damn. He’s good. He can sense a runner right through a closed door. Must be one of those classes they have to take; maybe an elective, like Illegible Handwriting, or Avoiding Crazy People. (He missed that last one, obviously.)
And then he peered up my nose (does he not have an awesome job?!), and into my ears (past the cobwebs) and down my throat (again…awesome…makes me wanna go back to school for a whack of years so I can also join this Noble Profession), and then he listened to me breathe and cough. Then he made Doctor Face and went, hmmm a couple times, and then he wired off a prescription for the cheap antibiotic because my sinuses and my ears are not merely “stuffy” but infected.
Also, I may be developing pink eye. Triple Awesome!!! But weird, because none of the kids have it and I don’t generally just sort of develop pink eye all on my own.
I need to have help. Usually from one of the kids.
Then again, maybe my eyes just wanted to close the circle, so to speak. They wanted to be part of the great cycle of love and goodwill that is my entire head right now.
Sinuses! Ear drums! Eyes! Are you feeling the LOVE, people?!
And then, just as I was starting to think whew, he totally forgot I’m overdue for my…, he did it. “OK, and while you’re here…you’re WAY overdue for the torture chamber so! We’ll just have Evelyn here strap you in and jam a metal rod into your flesh, ‘kay?”
Evelyn is such a nice sounding name, too. You wouldn’t expect someone named Evelyn to be a brutish thug who tortures people for a living.
And then draws a smiley face on the band-aid oh yes she did.
Thanks, Evelyn. That just makes it all worth doing, you know?
(Aw, I kid. Evelyn is actually a very sweet lady, whose name is not Evelyn but rather an equally nice sort of name, and if I wasn’t worried that someday I might say something mean about her in a fit of pique and then she’d find my blog and be all oh, REALLY?! and then start filing the points of her needles blunt when she saw me coming, I’d tell you what it is. But I doubt she would. She’s very good at her job, and takes a lot of pride in being able to get the deed done without any unnecessary drama. If you didn’t know better, you might not even realize you were being tortured. Only people with my finely tuned senses are able to pick up the true horror involved in having blood drawn. It’s a gift. Really.)
Now, I told you that so I could tell you this: Is it not kind of ironic that Captain Adventure is just getting over a sinus infection, and I’m just starting one? What is this, some kind of mother-son bonding thing?
Because I can think of better ones, people.
Things involving Play-Doh, or maybe rollercoasters. Stuff like that.
Sinus infections? Not high on my list of bonding experiences.
But hey, what do I know about anything, right? Maybe these are the things of which our warmest memories will be made. “Hey mom, remember that time we both had sinus infections, almost at the same time?” “Sure do, honey! What a wonderful experience that was, both of us, taking antibiotics, blowing our noses every eight seconds…” “Yeah, and you kept blowing songs, remember? And I thought it was hysterical that you could make music when you blew your nose?” “Oh yeah. Good times, son, goooood times…”
And just think: The timing is such that we’ll have these conversations over Thanksgiving dinner! Sweet!
…with any luck, Uncle Captain and I will be able to totally gross out the grandkids, each and every year…
(…heh…I can just hear the conversation now… “Mooooom, grandma isn’t going to tell that sinus infection story again this year, is she?” “sigh… probably, Junior, prob.uh.lee…”)
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