while i'm writing this, i'm amazed at how much slower it's going. i think i've lost some typing speed. ok so right after i wrote that i wasn't dead or disappeared or anything, i got sick. i'm sure you're all so very surprised, seeing as how i get sick all the damn time anyway.

but this time, it was a little bit different. first of all, it happened on easter sunday. which isn't a huge deal in my family, mostly i think because it doesn't revolve around traditional holiday cooking (see the thanksgiving entry for a fuller explanation). but it is also true that there is no doctor to be had on easter sunday, for love or money. unless, i suppose, one was married to or dating a doctor. so maybe there's just no doctors to be had for money. so out of cowardice i made mom talk to Boss Lady instead of calling myself, and called the doctor monday morning.

to my dismay, Kindly Doctor (that i've had since i was seven) was on vacation for the week. i had the choice of two associates, Flaky Doctor (who once told my brother the cough was all in his head), and Young Doctor. not being there for psychosomatic illness, i chose Young Doctor, booked my appointment, and started to get ready. i left the house in a decent amount of time, but i had to take a detour. and then got stuck behind THE SLOWEST SUV IN THE UNIVERSE. the speed limit was 35. it went 25. the speed limit went up to 40. it went 25. it went up to 30 once. and then promptly rode the brakes for the next mile. i ended up at the doctor's office frazzled and 15 minutes late. what follows is an exact transcription of events:

BPG: hi, i'm beatpoetgrrl, here to see Young Doctor.

RECEPTIONIST(snotty as all get-out): your appointment was for 12:15. i don't know if the doctor can see you now.

BPG(completely floored): oh.

RECEPTIONIST: i'll ask him. why were you late?

BPG (quietly seething): i had to take a detour.

she comes back and informs me that yes, the doctor will indeed see me. how very kind of him. because i haven't been going to the same doctor's office since i was seven years old. i'm not a valued patient or anything. i'm already in a bad mood, and then in walks Young Doctor. i should have been prepared for trouble when i heard him talking about someone getting their head out of the clouds and realizing that a republican in the white house wasn't that bad. but i was sick. so YD comes in, asks me how i'm doing, goes through some of the cursory doctor-ish stuff. asks me if i smoke, and i say yes but not heavily. he looks at me and says "you know that's not good for you? anyone tell you that?" to which i leveled my dryest gaze and said "yeah, i think someone mentioned that somewhere along the line." because really, Gentle Reader, what was i supposed to say? i'd already been frustrated by SUV drivers & insulted by receptionists; was i going to put up with the doctor's attitude too? ("why no, Big Smart Doctor Man, i had no idea! smoking is bad for you? thank you for helping me see the light!!") here's the funny thing: it had absolutely no effect.

he lectured me for the entire office visit on the evils of smoking. he calculated how much i spent a month while he was looking in my ears. told me that he had a patient once who figured it out and then came back and said (sheepishly):"doc, i smoked a porsche," while he was checking my throat. told me i could take that money and put it in a money market, put it in a piggy bank, and it could go toward paying off debts, toward this thing, that thing, my red hair (i'm not joking)...and just as he started to check my lungs said "you're probably thinking 'why doesn't this idiot just shut up and figure out what's wrong with me?'" to which i wisely did not reply. then he gave me a free sample of expectorant, told me to take sudafed, and sent me home. i developed a spiking fever that very night. YD ordered 1000 mg of tylenol and 600 of ibuprofen, but no antibiotic. thursday i went back to work. because Boss Lady told dad (snottily, of course)"i hope she can come in by thursday because Supervising Teacher is on vacation." so i went, and somehow i got through it. and that night my father called YD again and told him i was not getting better. YD prescribed cough syrup with codeine, but no antibiotic. i was high as a kite all thursday night. friday i was dizzy and confused, which i attributed to codeine and went to work. i muddled through feeling horrible until lunch break, when i went to the car and napped. i went back an hour later, wracked with chills and half-conscious. i got through the next two and a half hours somehow, by the skin of my teeth. i drove home and crashed onto my bed.

when my father got home, i had a 103 F fever. i was finally sick enough for an antibiotic. i got out of bed again for a short while yesterday. i'm weak as all get out, but on the mend. and working on my letter of complaint to Kindly Doctor about his colleague.

i'm also running late for work, so any other news (and what news can there be? i've been flat on my back for a week!) will have to wait until later.

i'm considering taking a hiatus from this project. it's been just about a year, and i'm not sure it's exactly what i thought it was going to be...but that's another entry.

all the world is strange except for thee and me. and i'm starting to wonder about thee. -bpg

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