Thursday, March 20, 2008

Waylaid by bronchitis... Again.

We're rounding out Week Two of this season's epic battle with bronchitis (I actually went home early yesterday and proceeded to spend much of last night coughing, which resulted in my waking up this morning with my well-hidden abdominal muscles afire). I elected to stay home today, where much of my schedule was as follows:

1.) Take medicine.
2.) Sleep.
3.) Become conscious enough to realize I cannot breathe out of one side of my head.
4.) In state of half-consciousness, turn over.
5.) Sleep.
6.) Get awakened by my mother with things she's "heard" from other people, or ideas she's gotten from extensive internal reviews of previous weddings she's attended.
7.) In state of half-consciousness, agree with whatever she says (upon further review, this may come back to bite me huge).
8.) Bolt upright in bed and proceed to actually listen to whatever she's saying.
9.) Fall asleep sitting upright, because, surprisingly enough, this is the only way I can guarantee breathing from both sides of my face.

And so on.

If you'll excuse me, I have to go repeat steps 1-5 now.

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Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Because Orson said so...

Found a gem at Every Day Should Be Saturday. I can't really align myself with the Stuff White People Like (although I totally dig on shorts, dogs, Arrested Development, having black friends, t-shirts, and grad school, and I'm quite certain I'll love Juno... maybe it can be "Stuff White People Like, and Brown People Have Been Known to Like Some of This Stuff, Too"?), so this is as close as I'm going to get.

I must give a grateful nod to lengli for first pointing out SWPL to me in her Facebook links, and to Orson for being one literary, talented lawya!

By the way, on SWPL: lol at #11!

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Thursday, March 06, 2008

The ongoing battle between Calgon and Chuck E.

I have the feeling that I may have to escape the office during lunch.

I have been fighting a sore throat and general malaise since yesterday. This morning, I woke up with a cough that leaves my throat feeling raw, along with the unmovable urge to stay in bed. I went to work anyway, where I was greeted with at least six e-mails all asking for the impossible, along with the distinct stench of coffee burnt to tar at the bottom of a coffee pot.

After tending to the coffee pot (by turning off the burner) and the e-mails (half I replied to, the other half I flipped the bird at), I made every attempt to let my dear co-workers know that I would rather not try to speak today, despite the fact that I sound just like Selma Diamond. Most were sympathetic; the small gaggle of idiots that constantly raise my ire proceeded to ignore my ill health and send calls and patients back to my office, left and right.

Excuse me? Let's send oncology and hematology patients, who are more than likely either already sick or highly susceptible to illness, to the sick-ass person suffering in the small, enclosed office in the back!

More patients coming in right now. Goodness. On goes my SARS mask.

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