A Ramble Through the Sick Ward
I have always been possessed with a freakish Puritanical Work Ethic (thanks a lot mom and dad). Yesterday I had to leave work early though, because the doctor's office had a 3 o?clock cancellation and I?m sick. Truth be told I?ve been a walking snot-fest since last Thursday.
So I left work at 12 and went home for some rest. I got no sleep the night before last because I was constantly either sneezing or coughing or blowing my nose. The sheer volume of used snot rags spilling over the side of the little wastebasket on my side of the bed is something akin to the snow-topped peaks of Kilimanjaro.
But I digress.
The doctor we see is Dr. Ramos but we refer to her as the Peanut Doctor because she?s so tiny. The peanut doctor is always patient with me even though she only sees me when I?m tired and sick and miserable. She?s the only doctor I?ve ever had as an adult who doesn?t incorrectly alter my first name into a sort of half-nickname.
So the peanut doctor examined me and told me very kindly that I have an upper respiratory infection. Sigh. I really hate being sick. Did I mention that?
After leaving the doctor?s I stopped at CVS to fill my prescription for antibiotics.
While I waited for them to fill it I walked down the street and picked up the dry cleaning. You know you?re an adult when you have a weekly dry cleaning bill. The sick was weighing me down and I felt exhausted, beaten and miserable.
After I?d put the clothes into the car and went back into CVS I felt the misery shift into a kind of hostility. The hostility was directed at the antibiotics and, indirectly, at the peanut doctor. In my head was the irrational thought, ?This had better
freaking work because I am damn
sick of this!? How original. Sick of being sick.
So I went home, took the first dose of my script and then waited with my ever-growing hostility to feel better. At 5:15 pm I thought, ?Okay I took the pills and hour ago. Exactly when
are they supposed to start working?? I had this same conversation with myself at 6:15 too and again at 7. By then, though, I was able to tentatively say that I was starting to feel better. I wasn?t as snot-ridden and my ears were popping the way they should again. There is nothing worse than trying to get your ears to pop when they don?t want to. Okay there are plenty of worse things but you know what I mean.
In any event I spent the hours waiting to feel better by reading Anne Lamott?s new book Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith
. I like Anne Lamott?s version of Christianity. She never takes it or herself too seriously and I think that is the great problem with many Christians today.
James Dobson, for instance, strikes me as an unrelenting and very angry man. And smug. If there?s one thing I hate its smugness.
Good thing I?m utter perfection, huh? I must be feeling better if my trademark self-deprecating humor is back. So I?ll leave you with this thought: if it?s only to combat the smugness of the world try not to take yourself too seriously. And stay healthy. This upper respiratory mofo is not to be trifled with.