I have been sick since Christmas. You know...the coughing, hacking, spitting, phlegming, stuffy head, fever, wish-you-could-kick-it-but-you-can't variety of sickness.
The problem with said sickness is that I don't really feel bad enough to stay home, but I don't really feel well enough to go to work...so...I go to work and whine about how sick I am and then when I get home, Hot Mom yells at me.
After six weeks of the yuck, I finally went in to the QuickCare to see the doctor. Now, I say "doctor" with a tongue firmly in my Halls mentho-lyptus-soaked cheek, because the QuickCare doctor that works the 10:00 PM - 7:00 AM shift is more of a...hmm...work in progress. He tells me he went to medical school at a college someplace in Florida (not a school I had ever heard of) then scrambled around a few other ports of call before he wound up here in the blistering heat.
Anywho...I was so sick, I didn't care who saw me, I just wanted them to give me a Z-pack and a keg of NyQuil.
The verdict: A sinus infection.
The treatment plan: One painful shot in the buttocks and then antibiotics for the next 3 1/2 years.
The final word from Hot Mom: "You should have gone in a month ago when I told you to, now it will be...blah, blah, blah.
No way! That's so interesting whenever Malorie says, "I told you..." she always follows up with "blah blah blah" as well! Now that's just crazy.
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