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I called my mother today to explain why I hadn't been home to say hi to the folks. Whatever I've been suffering from has come back in full force, and I thought it best not to share my germs up close and personal with them.
My mother, because she is a mother and takes that job very, very seriously, told me to go see a doctor and get something I've been sick for a long time, this is just ridiculous, that's what God gave us health insurance for, okay?
She called me back a few minutes after we talked and said, "It could be pneumonia. Please tell me you'll go to the doctor."
Mom was the third person who had mentioned pneumonia to meafter Tiffany and Lindaand it usually doesn't even take that many people to make me completely and totally paranoid, particularly when Jim Henson died of pneumonia because he ignored it too long. I finally crawled off to the shower and got ready to go.
Darin drove me to the Palo Alto Medical Foundation, and to make a long, boring, incredibly crowded wintertime waiting room story short, I got chest X-rays and pneumonia was at long last ruled out. Even the walking pneumonia (the variant Tiffany suspected I had). They called it bronchitis and gave me prescriptions.
One of the prescriptions was for cough syrup with (wheee!) codeine. It comes with a little dispenser shaped like a syringe that allows you to withdraw exactly two teaspoons of syrup. I'd just better be able to sleep, dammit. The other prescription is an antibiotic.
Other than visiting the emergency room, I didn't do anything today. I barely moved off of Cushion Two on the couch. I have my drugs, I have my fluids (water), I have my TV, I have my PowerBook. Life is good. Except for the bronchitis and stuff.
We also borrowed a tape of Friday night's episode of Homicide from Rob and LauraHurrah! Personal victory for Darin and me! They've stopped watching Star Trek: Voyage to the Bottom of the Franchise and substituted Homicide instead! Anyhow...Homicide was amazing...as always. There were a few scenes that just had Darin and me cheering. Or crying. Or crushed by the emotional weight of the scene. Frank is totally back.
Homicide should be studied by anyone who says TV is a cultural wasteland.
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