Monday, March 03, 2008

An Unexpected Visitor

What a lovely weekend J and I had with our friends. A few extra guests were added last minute, but were a delight to the group. Great times were had by all; and all were over-served on Saturday night, ahem.

In the midst of all the fun and festivities this weekend, Murphy slipped right through the door. That Murphy, he has some sense of humor. I woke up Saturday feeling like I'd been hit by a bus. Our overnight guests were spending the afternoon visiting a grandmother for her birthday so we had a few hours alone at home. J loaded me up with orange juice and medicine and put me to bed for a couple hours. I woke up feeling like a new person...or so I thought!

I was able to prepare everything in record time with the assistance of Mrs. O and everything was fabulous Saturday night. We had great appetizers, a tasty dinner, a spread of desserts, and a ten gallon galvanized bucket full of spirits. Now that is a Southern Saturday night.

Sunday morning I woke up feeling as if I'd been hit by a bus full of smelly high school football players who don't change their underwear. Then it backed up over me again. And then went forward. And you get the picture, yes?

Let me give you fair warning Internet: boast not about thy great health, and all thy vitamins taken regularly, and how much water thy drinks, and all the healthy goodness in thy diet, and how thy washes thy hands, uses hand sanitizer, and disinfectant wipes; lest thy get both a sinus and bladder infection simultaneously.

How did I do this you ask? Well clearly I'm an overachiever and I don’t half-ass anything.

Should you choose to ignore my warning, beware! You may find yourself being gung-ho the first one in line at the doctor’s emergency clinic. In order to do this on Monday morning and get to work you may get up and do you hair and make-up just before deciding “to hell with it” and donning yoga pants and a fleece zip-up, monogrammed in your defense. To class up the outfit you slip on ballet flats with a little bow in a fit of running out the door.

You may find yourself with a lovely female nurse to care for you, and her male student. You decide there is no eloquent way to say “my throat and my va-jay-jay are in pain with the same caliber of the fire of a thousand suns” so you say it, just like that. No shame. None.

After the usual question asking, poking, and prodding the nurses flip your paper over to get the results of the tinkle sample and immediately their eyes burst right out of their heads and they begin speaking in lingo that can only mean one thing: you’re on death’s door.

Really now, the nurses are alarmed that you are a diabetic and you have these super high scores of glucose, fructose, sucrose, your mama, whatever. With head hung low because it feels like it’s in a bubble, you explain that you may have had a bit too much vino during the weekend. By a bit too much you mean a helluva a lot that left you craving greasy fast-food for breakfast to sop up what was left of you. Oh, and no, you’re not a college student but thanks for asking. Oh, and don’t forget that orange juice! You had tons of orange juice. So, um, no you’re probably not a diabetic and also do not need a referral to AA.

Eyebrows will raise.

You’ll continue to explain that your body is only used to black coffee, water, and a little milk because duh! you gave up soda for Lent so why for the love of all that is good in this world do you get a bladder infection now? Huh? Tell me that!

With prescription in hand and a demand to stay home from work you skip slug off to Target to get the goods. You may tinkle your pants when you find you itty bitty medicine is fifty four American dollars. Well, that or the bladder infection who is keeping up now anyway?

You’ll go home and pray for death but death will not find you. After some chicken soup you work for the afternoon because son of a Southern man you’re not taking a day off of work to be “sick”. Clearly your days off are for beach trips, city excursions, or mental health days full of bargain shopping. You take the dog for a jaunt around the neighborhood since the weather is in the seventies. Lovely weather while you’re under the weather, thanks Murphy.

You may also find that all of this happens during a week when you cannot hide in your bed and escape the world. Oh, no, no! You have two shifts of four hours each to prepare for a fundraiser for the JL. You also have the Patron’s Party to attend on Friday night for above event. And don’t forget about the early morning sorority alumni meeting on Saturday, followed by a tea party for the girls who are graduating the collegiate chapter.

I’m just saying. You know. It could happen to you! I’d be careful. Murphy is on the loose rampage!

5 comments:

Kas said...

Oh no! I hope you are feeling better now. That really stinks! Sounds like you still had an excellent time with your company though, and that is good. Nothing worse than having company and not being able to do anything with them!!!

Jenny said...

Oh Sweetie, that's awful. I'm hoping you're on the mends by now! I hate vino hangovers. Murphy is a *&$@!

The Robbins Nest said...

Yikes girlfriend, you got hit hard! Hope you are feeling better. I hope I escape Murphy's rath. I have vino and spirits filled weekend ahead in Chicago

Cakabaker said...

Wow, sorry you are feeling like crap! I hope this finds you much better in spirits and less in the pain from a thousand sun department. Infections of any kind are just no fun.

Platinum Rose said...

I'm sorry! I hope you are on the road to recovery now!