2/7/09
2/6/09
McPrezzy
"What do you think a stimulus is?" Obama asked incredulously. "It’s spending — that's the whole point! Seriously.”
Ah Barack. I know you're mad. I know you're "fired up" over this. But if you are going to end press conferences with Mer- and Christinaisms, people are going to figure out why they can't locate our nation's leader on Thursday night between 9 and 10 PM EST.'
Ah Barack. I know you're mad. I know you're "fired up" over this. But if you are going to end press conferences with Mer- and Christinaisms, people are going to figure out why they can't locate our nation's leader on Thursday night between 9 and 10 PM EST.'
2/4/09
Oxymoronic Care
* I got sick on January 18. I know this because I debated for the entire week of school as to whether I should take a sick day for me, or for the boy, who was also sick. Together, we sacked up, snotted into our tissues, and trudged to school- much to the chagrin of the day care and elementary staff, I'm sure.
On Sunday, January 25, I was so sick, I gave into temptation and called in for Monday 1/26. I stayed home, slept, and felt worse. I returned to work popping Sudafed Sinus and polished off the box. Then I stopped for a box of Tylenol Cold & Sinus,churning through it like a chocoholic on M&M's.
Then the boy got sicker. He had to come to work with me on Thursday 1/29 because of his fever, mucusation, and throat pain when it was too late for a sub. The next day, after a trip to the pediatrician and an antibiotic, he woke up with conjunctivitis in both eyes... again too late for a sub, and thus I drug him with me again, all the while realizing I was getting sicker.
Over the weekend, I picked up Theraflu tablets and began my 3rd box of OTC meds.
Finally, with the boy back to his old self, I went to work this Monday and Tuesday, and wanted to die Tuesday night. I called in for a sub at 2 AM and planned to head to Urgent Care at 8 sharp.
The very word 'urgent' is stupid, as inevitably it is at least an hour's wait while you hack and cough in the lobby, try not to freeze in the air con, and listen to numerous reasons people give for wanting to be seen ahead of you because clearly, they are dying at a much faster rate. But, then, they've never been there, and have to go down the hall to patient registration to sign up, change their insurance card, and then have their place 'saved in line' while you wait another twenty minutes. I will say, I'm glad for my health insurance, because if I'd paid $65.00 outta pocket for the upcoming tete-a-tete, I'da been pissed.
Finally, they call me up, take my copay, make me sit again and tell me it'll be an hour. Resigned to my fate, I sit, get comfy as you can in a vinyl chair not wide enough to fit an Ethiopian child, and I'm called by the nurse to take my vitals.
Why does my weight and BP matter when I have head congestion? Is the fact that the entire process of urgent apathy is so draining and stress inducing not enough to get your heart racing and save me from the lecture on my BP rate?
Back to my chair I go, where I'm told to sit, and before I can touch ass to vinyl, they call me again. I now go back to the room behind the rooms and sit on a freezing exam table under a freezing vent for twenty minutes, during which time I'm torn between banging my head right through the xray lumunitor board and stealing a few rapid-strep tests for future at-home use. The big shiny glass jars teeming with tongue depressors and Q-tips for elephants call me. "Come. Tak us. You can have the magpie make great crafts from us. Take us home!" I have to mentally force myself not to open the "exam table paper" drawer to investigate and entertain myself. The smelling salts taped to the paper towel dispenser taunt me.
Finally, in comes the PA, named "Eva", to which I had to restrain myself from saying "Ee-vah!" and pointing to myself and saying "Sick--eeeee!"
Eventually we get to the fact that I've had congestion, coughing, aching and head pressure for the past month and that no OTC meds are helping, and I'm a teacher, and my son was sick, so I have lots of germs surrounding me, blah blah blah. She checks my ears, looks briefly down my throat, makes me "breathe deeply" four times.
"The ears and chest are clear."
"Oh, well..."
"Have you tried Claritin D?"
"Uh, no, I thought that was mainly for allergies, and this seemed to be..."
"Let's go with Claritin D, and Nasonex."
"Uh, well, my son had this and his doctor gave him an antibiotic. I'm not really in need of the nasal spray. Look I've had this for nearly a month, I have to get to work, I have to teach my students, and since I didn't get a flu shot, I've been pretty susceptible to..."
"This is't the flu."
"I understand, but do you understand it's been three weeks, and I'm not any better? I've done the whole rest, drink fluids thing and it's not working."
"Well, given the length of time you've had it, we could TRY an antibiotic."
"Yes, after three weeks of this with no improvement, I'd like to try one."
[Looks at me with disdain]
"Well, here you go, I hope you feel better"
And the door is opened and held for me to get my shit and exit.
In the car, I see that what I have is a script which I can not even read. Turns out she handed me Amoxycillin without any further question, Nasonex spray, which I didn't really need, and a Claritin D prescription for which my insurance will not cover the cost, so I wound up with some generic like "Walgreens D" at 16 bucks to take one a day-- and it has an antihistamine in it, which makes me groggy and loopy.
Way to go Eva. Way to listen and communicate. Evidently her 'directive' was complete once she tossed that paper at me and opened the door to shoo me out.
So now I'm home with my amox and my Nasonex (which seriously makes me think of that bee talking like to me like Antonio Banderas, and really if Antonio Banderas came to my house to comfort me I would feel tons better) and as of yet, Carl Edwards, I'm not "Claritin clear".
Oh my. Health is a cherished thing.
On Sunday, January 25, I was so sick, I gave into temptation and called in for Monday 1/26. I stayed home, slept, and felt worse. I returned to work popping Sudafed Sinus and polished off the box. Then I stopped for a box of Tylenol Cold & Sinus,churning through it like a chocoholic on M&M's.
Then the boy got sicker. He had to come to work with me on Thursday 1/29 because of his fever, mucusation, and throat pain when it was too late for a sub. The next day, after a trip to the pediatrician and an antibiotic, he woke up with conjunctivitis in both eyes... again too late for a sub, and thus I drug him with me again, all the while realizing I was getting sicker.
Over the weekend, I picked up Theraflu tablets and began my 3rd box of OTC meds.
Finally, with the boy back to his old self, I went to work this Monday and Tuesday, and wanted to die Tuesday night. I called in for a sub at 2 AM and planned to head to Urgent Care at 8 sharp.
The very word 'urgent' is stupid, as inevitably it is at least an hour's wait while you hack and cough in the lobby, try not to freeze in the air con, and listen to numerous reasons people give for wanting to be seen ahead of you because clearly, they are dying at a much faster rate. But, then, they've never been there, and have to go down the hall to patient registration to sign up, change their insurance card, and then have their place 'saved in line' while you wait another twenty minutes. I will say, I'm glad for my health insurance, because if I'd paid $65.00 outta pocket for the upcoming tete-a-tete, I'da been pissed.
Finally, they call me up, take my copay, make me sit again and tell me it'll be an hour. Resigned to my fate, I sit, get comfy as you can in a vinyl chair not wide enough to fit an Ethiopian child, and I'm called by the nurse to take my vitals.
Why does my weight and BP matter when I have head congestion? Is the fact that the entire process of urgent apathy is so draining and stress inducing not enough to get your heart racing and save me from the lecture on my BP rate?
Back to my chair I go, where I'm told to sit, and before I can touch ass to vinyl, they call me again. I now go back to the room behind the rooms and sit on a freezing exam table under a freezing vent for twenty minutes, during which time I'm torn between banging my head right through the xray lumunitor board and stealing a few rapid-strep tests for future at-home use. The big shiny glass jars teeming with tongue depressors and Q-tips for elephants call me. "Come. Tak us. You can have the magpie make great crafts from us. Take us home!" I have to mentally force myself not to open the "exam table paper" drawer to investigate and entertain myself. The smelling salts taped to the paper towel dispenser taunt me.
Finally, in comes the PA, named "Eva", to which I had to restrain myself from saying "Ee-vah!" and pointing to myself and saying "Sick--eeeee!"
Eventually we get to the fact that I've had congestion, coughing, aching and head pressure for the past month and that no OTC meds are helping, and I'm a teacher, and my son was sick, so I have lots of germs surrounding me, blah blah blah. She checks my ears, looks briefly down my throat, makes me "breathe deeply" four times.
"The ears and chest are clear."
"Oh, well..."
"Have you tried Claritin D?"
"Uh, no, I thought that was mainly for allergies, and this seemed to be..."
"Let's go with Claritin D, and Nasonex."
"Uh, well, my son had this and his doctor gave him an antibiotic. I'm not really in need of the nasal spray. Look I've had this for nearly a month, I have to get to work, I have to teach my students, and since I didn't get a flu shot, I've been pretty susceptible to..."
"This is't the flu."
"I understand, but do you understand it's been three weeks, and I'm not any better? I've done the whole rest, drink fluids thing and it's not working."
"Well, given the length of time you've had it, we could TRY an antibiotic."
"Yes, after three weeks of this with no improvement, I'd like to try one."
[Looks at me with disdain]
"Well, here you go, I hope you feel better"
And the door is opened and held for me to get my shit and exit.
In the car, I see that what I have is a script which I can not even read. Turns out she handed me Amoxycillin without any further question, Nasonex spray, which I didn't really need, and a Claritin D prescription for which my insurance will not cover the cost, so I wound up with some generic like "Walgreens D" at 16 bucks to take one a day-- and it has an antihistamine in it, which makes me groggy and loopy.
Way to go Eva. Way to listen and communicate. Evidently her 'directive' was complete once she tossed that paper at me and opened the door to shoo me out.
So now I'm home with my amox and my Nasonex (which seriously makes me think of that bee talking like to me like Antonio Banderas, and really if Antonio Banderas came to my house to comfort me I would feel tons better) and as of yet, Carl Edwards, I'm not "Claritin clear".
Oh my. Health is a cherished thing.
2/3/09
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