Do you ever wonder what your pets do when you're gone? Well, I'll tell you what mine did,...
While I was at the urgent care clinic after a week of feeling worse and worse every day,.. getting the edict from the physician's assistant that I do in fact have walking pnemonia,..while my overworked hubby bounced two girls in the waiting room as the nurse gave me a breathing treatment and a shot of antibiotics in the bum.
(I normally have low blood pressure and low body temperature, and then today with the mucus situation, I have low oxygen levels, which prompted her to ask, "Do you ever feel light headed or dizzy?" To which I responded, "Why, yes, but I thought that was just part of my personality.")
While I was gone, my dogs, the Fuskey and the #&)#%(* German Shepherd were partying lilke it was 1999. Here's how it went down, I think: the Fusky, with her carbohydrates-from-Trader Joe's fetish decided to finish off my freshly made pumpkin bread. Then, with all that fiber (how much fiber is there in half a loaf of TJ's pumpkin bread? Quite a lot by the looks of it,.) she proceeded to poop upstairs.
Then, since she didn't share with Miles, the #&$)(#*$(*N German Shepherd, he got mad and took it out on the B's new Hello Kitty backpack, recently purchased to transport her new tap shoes in. Thankfully he stopped chewing when he hit the metal taps; the shoes are unscathed. Because I needed something with a nice clunking sound with which to smack them with when I got home.
Yeah, yeah, .. they behave when they're ran around the neighborhood for several miles each day. Which I haven't done because I've been busy coughing up a lung.
I wouldn't have even gone to the doctor, but you know how these things work - I've been planning a girl's weekend with my sorority sisters up in Portland for two months now. The last time I took off sans child? Five years ago. Do I ever get sick? Not really.
So, of course, I would have something totally crappy happen to me right before jumping on a plane to go up to the raining northwest from Cali. Ya know, if it had been a kidney or stomach thing, I might have been able to ignore it, but the fear of my head exploding on the airplane from too much sinus pressure? That made me go to the doctor.
Which I don't like because I find it humorous that it seems like all the people who go into professions where they constantly have to deal with people? They don't really like people. So, after the stupid physician's assistant (yeah, I don't even rate for a real doc, I suppose) scolded me, "You've been feeling this way for two weeks and only NOW you come to the doctor?" I scolded back (I have five kids, DON'T USE THAT TONE OF VOICE WITH ME.) : "If you'd read my admission form correctly, you'd see that I just started feeling bad on Sunday night, and most of the time, if someone comes in with a cough and a stuffy nose, before a week, you just say it's a virus and send us home anyway." Ha. Take that and a bunch of spittle spewed your way, thank you very much.
So, she got back at me with the shot in the bum.
Then, we went to Von's to get some more drugs, so I treated the girls to hot cha cha. Which Fifi promptly spilled, but I didn't know until I'd turned the aisle to see the trail of slippery chocolate behind me, much like Gretel. Then, while I was trying to figure out, do I 'fess up or just go down the next aisle like nothing happened, Fifi disappeared into the card section. Only a few mangled Valentine's Day cards later, I had them by the scruff of their necks back home, to be met by white fluff all over my living room floor.
I do need a vacation.