My throat has recently earned me the following luxuries:
Nearly 48 straight hours in bed. Flowers. Ice cream sandwiches and Slurpees.
No, I didn't do that.
I'm sick. And never before have I been treated so royally when sick as I was this time around. There are perks to having your husband home simply because he is currently without work (only for a few more days though).
In fact, this is the first time I've been sick, in recent memory, where it felt like I had a penis. Not literally. I mean there's nothing new growing down there. Just that I really got to be sick. I laid in bed and slept and watched TV (discovered an awesome new series, Shameless, check it out) and had flowers brought to me, and Slurpees and an 'ice bun' (that's what Rhett, my three year old, calls an ice cream sandwich). My husband kept the bedroom door shut and entertained our two little boys who have also been sick and stuck in the house for a week and are starting to show signs of a fever, the cabin variety. My oldest son went to the store for me Wednesday night and got me Neo-Citran and covered me up with an extra blanket when I was freezing.
Despite desperately wanting to be able to swallow my own saliva without it feeling like I am swallowing razorblades, the headache, the fever and body aches, it was pretty sweet. I even got caught up on Big Love.
I did have one blip on the radar when I drove my bedraggled self to the walk-in clinic yesterday afternoon. I drove myself because Ryan had to stay with the boys. I went to the walk-in clinic because my Dr. is on holidays. Nice for him. When I got there the waiting room was empty. It didn't take long until I was escorted into an examining room. There I waited. Long enough that I was tempted to lay on the table and just go back to sleep. Finally the doctor came and wrote the precious prescription. Then it was off to Zeller's to fill it. This too happened fairly quickly but the pharmacist did feel the need to explain to the point of nauseousness, my own, how I should eat Activia to prevent a yeast infection from the penicillin. Thanks Tips. But speaking to me softly about active bacteria and my vag when I'm having difficulty standing upright and sweating like a motherfucker isn't exactly helpful.
But I made it home. And about an hour ago, I emerged from my cocoon-like bedroom a slightly bedraggled butterfly with wicked case of bedhead. I am now firmly ensconced on my couch enjoying The Muppet's Take Manhattan.
Who knew a post about throats, penis and itchy vaginas could be so wholesome?