Annie and I are both officially sick. She woke on Friday with a fever, and I didn’t want to mess around with that over the weekend. So, off we went to see Dr. Looove. While we were there I made a flip comment about how I’d had my own cough since the Clinton Administration, so Dr. Looove listened to my chest as well. Bel and I walked out of there with antibiotic prescriptions for both of us.
You know what the good thing about prescription drugs is? Those little pills allow you to lay on the couch and say things like, “I don’t feeeeeeeeeeeeeel good” and your husband isn’t allowed to roll his eyes at you. And when you say, “I have a feeeeeever, I need cold coconut water!” your husband has to get it for you. Should he dare say something like, “you have a fever, not broken legs,” all you have to do is wave your prescription in his general direction and make weak moaning sounds.
I turn into such a man when I’m sick.
I have been feeling physically crappy for ages and ages, so I really hope these drugs do the job. As fun as it is to whine at Mike, I don’t enjoy being sick. Especially when Annie is sick as well.
Annie and I spent the first part of the weekend a sweaty mess. I can always tell when she’s sick because she wants to be cuddled. Miss Independent suddenly wants her mama and it’s awesome. Except she has that damn fever, so she is like cuddling with the freaking sun. We both napped off and on on Friday, and at one point I had to ask Mike to take her for a while. When he lifted her up, there was an Annie-shaped sweat stain on my shirt.
In between naps and visiting Dr. Looove, I managed to squeeze in a follow-up visit with Dr. Ken so he could check my eye. His assistant put orange eye drops in BOTH of my eyes, which burned and made my eyes feel like they were covered in glue. Dr. Ken cleaned up the mess, then flipped my eyelid inside out for a thorough examination. The verdict is that Stye Stallone has healed very well, but there is still tissue damage. I have to go back in a few weeks to RULE OUT ADDITIONAL SURGERY because otherwise my eyelid might always look a little puffy. Now, I spend a lot of time looking in the mirror (I’m conceited like that), and I think the puffiness is negligible. So unless someone can give me a good reason why I might want this additional unspecified surgery, I think I’m gonna pass.
And don’t say “But you could be a mascara model!” because that ship has sailed.