Conversations with the Doctors

I suppose, that based on my most recent conversations with our family doctors, on some level, someone should have swooped in from Protective Services and rescued my children from my evil clutches.

We have been swamped in this house with what I have been fondly referring to the Plague. It starts with a fever and headache. Moves on to some nausea, and culminates with a lot of time logged lounging on the couch watching the Nate Berkus show (which is awful. And so is "The Chew" and "The Talk" and any other daytime television show). Maddie got it first, so I dutifully took her to The Doctor.

Nurse: "So, how high was her fever"?
Me: "How should I know? She's the third kid. We don't love her as much as the other two, so we don't really keep track of things like how high her fever was".
Nurse: "chuckle chuckle chuckle."

Like I was joking. I really don't take their temp anymore. All I know is that it's a serious inconvenience for them to miss school, mostly because then I am the asshole stuck teaching them days' worth of missed lessons and trying to convince my kids that I actually USED to be a teacher and I may in fact know what I'm talking about. And then I bang my head on a wall for about 3 hours. It has the same effect.

End Dr. Rx- VIRUS

So then a few days later, during the fricking super bowl party at the neighbors, Nate LOCKS IT UP screaming and crying on the stairs that his "head hurts". And of course one look at his puffy lips tells me he is seriously not well.

So I scoop him up, and carry him home. And for 2 days listen to him rolling in bed moaning, "ooooohhhhh, I just CAN'T take it anymore. Legs hurt. Head hurts". Seriously, I am thinking,

"Listen you little shit. Your sister had this same goddamn virus and I will cut my arm off if she even whined half as much as you. Knock this shit off."

Apprently, the whole "men are babies when sick" stereotype has it's basis in solid historical footing. And so, because I was so sick I had to call off work for two days, and because I couldn't take the whining anymore, in goes Nate to the Doc.

Nurse (the same one Maddie had): "And why is he here?"
Me: Because I can't take it anymore. I can't listen to him for 2 more minutes or my brain will explode. If this is just the same damn virus his sister had, I feel super sorry for the poor chick who marries this clown and has to deal with him for the rest of her life."
Nurse: "chuckle chuckle chuckle."

Like I was joking. Again.

And then it was MY turn.
Nurse: "And why are YOU here"?
Me: "Because I'm pretty stupid."
Nurse: "Can you explain?"
Me: "Well, funny story. My ONE New Years Resolution was to get organized. So, I decided 2 weeks ago when I had bronchitis to organize all my shit, which incidentally included my meds. So I put them away, all 'organized" into the medicine cabinet. And then I forgot about them. And then I found them a week later. And I took them. But I went for a 5 mile run outside, in the cold, and I was all sweaty and cough-y and crap. And so now I feel like a Mac Truck hit me going 112 and I might kill myself if I hear my kids whining again.
Nurse:"chuckle chuckle chuckle'.

I swear I was not even close to joking anymore. I felt like shit, I looked like shit, and apparently, I maintain a fantastic sense of humor in the face of adversity.

So the bottom line, at the end of the day was that my bronchitis was a real bitch. I wound up with some funky ass antibiotic that I couldn't have my vitamins or dairy with because it could bind to the medication making it less effective. Whoever I have to thank for my genetics and the whole "penicillin' allergy, "Thanks asshole."

John wound up with Bronchitis. So did Jack. We spread the plague to the neighbors who wound up with fevers too. We had to cancel our end of the group date for Valentine's day at my neighbors church for fear that my little freakshows would breathe on someone and infect them. Total bummer man.

But, on the positive side, I lost 4 pounds, and we're going to an indoor waterpark this weekend, so I am gonna look HAWT hacking loogies in my bathing suit.

I was also told my daughter that "Dads right mom. You DO sound like a man when you cough".
A ringing endorsement for sure.

And when working out today, I still couldn't catch my breath.

This is so amazingly ridiculous.
But hey, I lost 4 lbs.