In Which I Complain Loudly and Feel Sorry For Myself

If there is a strange, rare disease out there I am going to get it. And if I don't get it, one of my two BFFs will. We are a regular three-woman freak show. And I'm not even kidding.

This morning I woke up feeling like something was going to explode off my face. The entire left side of my face was swollen, tender and kind of gucky.

I dismissed this as allergies. I've been struggling for a couple of weeks with something in the air. Not at all untypical for me. So I went on to work.

I knew something was wrong when I was sitting at my desk and I got the chills. I am never cold and today was the hottest day of the year. Plus I felt dizzy and thought I might faint. But all that I kind of cast aside as the usual bout of allergies. Maybe I was even getting a cold. Nothing to worry about.

Until at about 1:15 it hit me: I WAS NOT HUNGRY.

Internet, I am always hungry. Especially at an hour past my normal lunch time.

Crap. Someone call 911. Shit just got real.

I immediately tell my boss that in heading out and to the emergency care doctor I go. With each moment things are getting fuzzier. My hands are shaking and I'm sweating like a whore in church.

After about two hours of doctors and tests, a nurse returns to my exam room. In a hazmat suit and with a giant red sign that says CONTAMINATED.

And that's when I blinked and was transported into one of Hunter S. Thompson's tripped out dreams.

Nurse Vader is talking to me but all I hear is WAHK WAHK WA WA WAHK.

She pulls out a giant needle and man handles me into a position in which she can access my hip.

I scream like a bitch.

My bad, that was just the rubbing alcohol cold on my ass. The hip is higher up and to the left, lady.

Oops. Have lost control of inner monologue. Am talking very loudly.

Why is she laughing?

Ha ha, bitch. Being sick is a barrel of monkies.

And then I puked. Mostly in the garbage can. Maybe like 90 percent in trash, 10 percent on Nurse Giggles. Who's laughing now?

What do you mean you still haven't given me the shot?

You win.

Is it okay if I lay my face on this cool tile counter top?

Why, yes, I would fancy something for the pain.

And somehow I ended up at home with my perscriptions filled.

For next bit I sleep, watch tv and sleep some more.

Then I've slept for like 7 hours and really have to pee.

Also. Pain pills!

And in the bathroom, through my swollen Shrek face I see the worlds largest spider. And it's the brown one wearing a banjo.

So I smack that sucker with a book.

Only it explodes with hundreds of tiny baby spiders!

More screaming. More book squishing. Except they are too tiny and now crawling all over!!!

Beause I am both resourseful and high I grab the only toxic thing I see: a 10-year old can of Aquanet.

Which is empty!

So I fling open the cabinet. And find two rolls of toilet paper, Costco size box if tampons and a rusty can of Scrubbing Bubbles.

Yes. I Scrubbing Bubbled them to death. It also makes a fine weed killer.

True story.

-- Post From My iPhone