WHY CAN'T YOU BE THE SICKEST AT THE DR?

Last night before I went to sleep I thought to myself that today would be the first day since Aug 15th that I would go to work two days in a row. When I woke up at 4:45am with huge sneezes and a throat that just didn’t want to swallow and a temp of 99.8 (very high for someone who is normally in the low 98s) I realized that today would, in fact, not be a day for going to work. I called the office and let them know that I would instead be hitting the Dr’s office and I would keep them posted.

I got up at eight so I could make an appointment and then got back in bed for a few hours. I headed to the Dr at 11. I checked my temp before leaving the house and it was at 99.3, still very high for me. The train was so unbearably slow that I somehow managed to end up being fifteen minutes late to the Drs office. It didn’t help that they had also switched floors in the building but that only added another minute onto my commute time. I sat around the office for a little while reading the cursed Red Eye. That paper is like crack, I know it is bad for me but I just can’t stop. Not that I ever have done crack but I have heard stories and I have an active imagination.

The nurse took my temp in the office, it was an incredibly normal 98.6. That is still a little high for me but not at all impressive. I was somewhat disappointed. My throat didn’t hurt as much as it had, my neck didn’t feel like it was in the early stages of Meningitis, and I could kind of speak without sounding like some kind of non-human creature. Why is it that whenever I make it to the Dr I am never as sick as when I decided to go? I don’t think I am the only one who has this problem. I think it is universally experienced. It just isn’t right.

I waited for the Dr and read InStyle. The magazine had a perfume sample in it somewhere and I hoped the nauseating smell would be enough to make me seem sicker when my Dr came in. I don’t think I needed it. She looked in my throat and felt my glands and promptly concluded that I had a throat infection but luckily came in early enough that it hadn’t gotten incredibly horribly bad. Not that my throat wasn’t red and gross, it just could have been worse. She wrote me a prescription and sent me on my way. I shouldn’t be contagious by tomorrow morning so back to work I go. However, Mom thinks that the half constructed office may be the cause of my illness and she may be right. If that building makes me feel worse I am taking home a few sheets of paper and making some calls and that will be that.

1. I went all the way to Paris/ To forget your face/ Captured in stained glass/ Young lives long since past/ Statues of lovers everyplace

2. Baby your magic is working/ I lose control of myself/ Whenever you are near me/ I feel myself changing/ From a guy thought too cynical for love into a hopeless romantic

3. Rush hour/ And the day is dawning/ And the rain came/ And pushed me under the awning. Ani DiFranco, Rush Hour. Identified by Brooke.

4. Let me tell you how it will be/ There’s one for you nineteen for me. Taxman, The Beatles. Identified by Brooke.

5. It was the third of September/ The day I’ll always remember/ Yes I will/ Cause that was the day that my Daddy died. Papa Was A Rolling Stone, The Temptations. Identified by Mom.