I'm not sure why, but I get whiny when I'm sick. Throw an occasional ache or pain my way, the normal I-just-mowed-the-lawn ache, the twisted ankle during a morning run, and I can usually shrug it off. But give me a bad cold, the flu, or anything like that, I jump full-force into whiny-little-kid mode. I fully expect my mom to fix me hot cups of tea and toast or soup, with the knowledge that that evening, my dad'll get home from work, bring me a class of Canada Dry Ginger Ale (the only kind he bought when one of us kids were sick) and sit and me the funny pages or some really cool book.
I've been sick the past week. (You kind-of suspected something was up, right?) My mom, who's in her 80s lives several states away, and my dad, the Ginger Ale king, died almost seven years ago just short of his 80th birthday, which meant I was sort-of on my own.
Actually, I sort-of was given the cold (which morphed into bronchitis) from my younger two sons. Growing up, all four of my offspring were told repeatedly to share. There are times when I wish they didn't take that sharing thing to heart. Usually, my son M. gets whatever first, then passes it to his younger brother, J., who then hands it off to me. This time, however, my friend Kevin is go blame. He started the whole thing, then gave it to M.
For a while, it looked like I wasn't going to get it, but when I did, it hung on, gradually getting worse. Finally, I broke down and had Kev drop me off at a walk-in clinic. I didn't feel bad enough to go to the ER, but I also didn't want to wait a day or so to get an appointment with my primary doctor.
At the clinic (one of Bayfront's many walk-ins), I had less than a 15-minute wait. (Note: No, I'm not getting any form of compensation for the plug, but I do figure that if someone or some place provides a decent service, I'll let people know. Flip side is that if that service treats people like crap, that gets a write-up, too. One area hospital - unnamed here - knows that.) Once in the exam room, Dr. Sunshine (obviously not his real name) checked out the lungs, etc. and told me it was definitely more than the cold that Kev, M. or J. had: it had morphed into bronchitis.
"On the bright side, it's not pneumonia!" he exclaimed. I wanted to ask who had died and made him Dr. Sunshine...In this case, I'm not trying to be mean or snarky, just realizing he was trying to put a positive spin on it (I hope!). Off I went with a prescription for antibiotics and cough medicine.
There are two pluses to this all. First is that I'm doing a lot better. (Everyone else healed before I did; I made 'em bring me hot tea and soup and Canada Dry Ginger Ale.) The second is that, unlike one bout of the flu (partial description in January, 2013), no one sounded like Harvey Fierstein.
When looking for something positive, ya gotta go with what works.
No comments:
Post a Comment