I'm a stubborn a-hole. I get that from my dad. So last week when I started coughing and sniffling every five seconds, I still insisted to everyone that told me otherwise that it was "just allergies." Did I mention that I'm also an idiot?
At the urging of my mom, I went out to my local CVS and started myself on some Dayquil. Have you ever breathed that shit in? Jesus, it smells like it could start a car! It was nasty, and it did nothing. My dad, who was visiting and bunking on my couch, went out and got me some Vicks (I love when parents visit. You get to be eight years old again and your mom and dad do everything for you. It's awesome). It worked for a while; then started laughing in my face. By then my voice was totally gone, which a lot of people were probably thankful for. "Honey, please see a doctor," my mom begged me.
I still maintained that I didn't need to "see"anybody. My logic made sense- I'd gone out with my friends that weekend and not even the fact that I was wearing the shortest skirt ever created could hide the fact that I was omitting noises that made me sound like a poisonous snake. My decoy of an outfit didn't really work when I was hacking up internal organs into the faces of my crew. It was incredibly sexy- I bet all the guys in the room were beside themselves with how badly they wanted me. I defied anyone not to be 100% turned on.
After a week of this phlegm fiesta, I finally agreed to listen to my mother and went to the walk-in clinic because I'm too poor to have a GP (thank you, college!). Luckily, there was nobody else there and it only took them ten minutes to call my name; although it took the doctor half an hour to come in afterward. Figures. Three different nurses came in and asked me all the same questions. I got really impatient when the fourth guy finally came in and did nothing but shine a light in my eyes, ears and throat and declared that I had bronchitis. Fucking wonderful. He didn't even do that thing where he takes that stick and shoves it all the way down my tongue, which I hate anyway because I have a high gag reflex. So essentially I sat there for a half hour waiting for this jerkoff to basically blind me. Did I mention I hate doctors? Sorry Grandma, guess I'm going to have to turkey baster a lawyer instead. So much for being a good Jew.
I was told to "take it easy" for the next few days. I asked if I can go to the gym, and Doctor Incompetent looked at me like, "are you high?" and goes, "the gym? You need to be in bed for the next two days." I decided to make light of the situation and joked, "and not the fun kind of staying in bed, right?" He was not amused.
He also told me to call everyone I've spent any time with in the last week and let them know that I was contagious. This included my dad, my brother and any of my friends. "Everyone?" I asked him. "Jeez, it's not herpes." Again, wrong crowd.
Also, no dairy. What??? I LOVE cheese! I'm a cheese slut. If I could live in a cheese house, I would. This is blasphemy.
Anyway, the doctor wrote me a prescription for like nine different drugs, and when I picked them up at CVS I realized that one of the pills is HUGE. Like, a horse couldn't swallow that shit.
This is just some of what I'll be squirreling down my throat for the next week:
When I Googled pictures of it, the words "pregnancy" and "chlamydia" also came up. Um, excuse me? Thankfully, NO.
So now I have to get used to this bedrest thing. I never get sick so this is new territory for me. Luckily baseball is on this weekend and I have a bunch of SyFy Channel movies taped. I'm going to kick this thing's ass before it knows what's even going on. I'll be on my feet in two days.
I still wish I could eat some cheese, though.
PS- I'm starting a new column next month where I'll let you know what music I'm listening to. I know everyone respects my opinion (because why wouldn't you), so if you'd like to get in on it, send an email to email@example.com or leave a comment here. Let me know what you like.