It’s the season. The season of germs, flu, colds, viruses and other nasty bugs. There is no way to avoid it. Everywhere you go, someone is sneezing, dripping, or coughing in your face. If I were a lesser person, I would consider filing restraining orders against all sick people. But alas, I know it’s something you have to deal with, every SINGLE year. We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t defeat the common cold or the flu.
Here, in our household, we have to deal with it as well. I must unfortunately admit that I am getting older, since I now usually manage to get sick at least once a year. When I was younger, I rarely got sick. When I was kid, I was always sick, but that’s another story.
My daughter, bless her tiny little heart, gets sick every year about this time. I blame it on the fact that Doctors no longer remove tonsils. Every year, she gets some nasty infection, which usually develops into strep throat, enlarged tonsils, and high fevers. Of course, dealing with the Doctors during all of this is no fun, since you can’t convince them you know your child better than they do. As is always the case, when my little girl (who is 18 but will always be my little girl) starts saying “my throat hurts”, you can bet money on the fact she has the beginning stages of strep. Despite the history of this, in her medical records, the Doctors refuse to do anything until it’s too late. Which means they end up writing her notes excusing her from school for at least a week. Sometimes more.
We are, at this time, going on day 4 of her being out of school.
She went to the Doctor again today, and she saw her regular Doctor. As you know, during the cold and flu season, it’s next to impossible to see your regular Doctor within a 2 week period. I think this is a conspiracy by Doctors who probably get tired of seeing the same faces over and over. Somehow, my wife managed a miracle and got an appointment for the kid this morning. Of course, after already missing three days (going on 4) of school, and still being very sick (including a fever), what does she say? “Oh this won’t do.” And promptly prescribes enough antibiotics to cure a third world country of every disease known to mankind. Why this couldn’t have been done on the FIRST visit is an eternal mystery that ranks up there with why toast almost always lands butter side down on the floor and how a very clean teenage girl can have a bathroom so nasty the homeless would refuse to sleep there.
So in a few days, my daughter will finally start to get well. In the meantime, my wife is ALSO sick. I don’t know if she has the same thing, as it’s not presenting the same, but she has the sniffles, stuffy head, cough, and aches.
I now feel like I should be wearing a hazmat suit in my own house people.
I know what’s going to happen. Despite already being sick ONCE this season, I’m going to end up sick again. Because I’m surrounded by demonic germs of the sickly. Which sounds like the name of a rock band. If you want to use that as the name of your band, feel free. I’ll expect a 5% royalty check in the mail on everything you sell.
I’m starting to feel a little desperate. Earlier, I found myself looking for Lysol, so I could gleefully spray the entire house. And maybe my wife and daughter. I’ve even considered telling them to open wide and spray the stuff down their throats.
I REALLY don’t want to get sick again.
Maybe I will get lucky and the years of learning every crafty ninja germ deflecting move will work. But probably not. Soon, I’ll probably be on the couch, whining and complaining about how bad I feel and calling for my wife every 10 minutes. Hey, I’m a man, it’s what we do when sick. This will, of course, prompt her to roll her eyes, mutter under her breath, spend lots of time in rooms where she can’t hear me, and then post a blog about what a pain in her rear end I am.
That’s about the only bonus that will come of this, I’m telling you now.
So off I go, armed with Febreze in one hand and Lysol in the other. Wish me luck, or you’ll be hearing from my wife. Oh, and as I side note, cats don’t like spray cans. Judging from the way they run and scatter when they hear that can hiss, I believe they think you are spraying the Ebola virus at them. Oh yeah, and if I do get sick again, I will be resuming my campaign to get my wife to dress up like a nurse again and play "Doctor". Sorta like the nurse below. I keep telling her it would make me get well faster, which usually prompts her to tell me to shut it and hide in another room. No doubt only in the attempt to not get sick again herself. I'm sure that's the story she will stick with anyway.
Mhm-hmm. Dressing like this would make me feel real perky, really fast.
Until next time, when I'm sure I'll be blogging from my sick bed.