I know there are big problems out there. Starvation in Africa and Asia . . . and in too many homes in America. Unemployment that is way too high in most of the nation including right here in Oregon. Medical costs that continue to soar. I get it, I get it. I know my problems are itty bitty in light of what much of the world continues to face BUT given that I have the cold from hell - when everything that comes up is grayish green - did I have to get Pink Eye at the same time? REALLY? So add to the picture of hacking, coughing and sneezing one squinty, oozy, crusty, reddish eye and one that is rushing to match its neighbor. Ah, yes, the total package is uber attractive.
I have had one unseemly idea. Can I make money off this? What about offering myself (for a fee, mind you) as a replacement Stand-In-Liner? I will take your place and move you quickly to the front of whatever line you need to stand in. For example, need tickets for some great show? No problem. I'll take your place, start coughing/hacking, rub my infected pink eyes, slowly turn toward others in line and then wait to see what happens. People will flee. I don't suspect this, by the way, I know it. How? This morning I watched people respond to my presence while waiting to see my doctor. It was not pretty.
It's not the horrid visual that creates the rush to escape my presence. It's the sounds. Not my speaking voice - that's the usual husky of a heavily congested person. If it weren't accompanied by other sounds, it might even be a bit sexy but not when one is in the presence of The Cough. My cough is disturbing. It's low, deep, raspy, bronchial - it sounds like pieces of my lungs are coming up with each cough. People stop in their tracks, turn to gape and then quickly move away. Unfortunately for me, it's not new. No, it started in Hiroshima in 1983. It really did. I was one of 13 teachers representing American education on a 3-week trip sponsored by the Japanese government. I visited lots of schools and factories, met many teachers and government officials, toured temples and monuments and ended up representing the larger group of 100 teachers from the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Indonesia as I laid a wreath at the memorial at ground zero at Hiroshima. A few hours later I started the cough that now accompanies every cold I get. Yep, Hiroshima. Interesting, eh?,
And of course, the cough made its appearance this morning in the waiting room. What was kind of amusing was the room's response when the receptionist asked why I was there. Everyone, I am sure, assumed the cold brought me in given that I sounded at death's door. So, when I answered, "I need medicine for Pink Eye" - well the whole room turned to stare. I wanted to stand, curtsy and say, "Yep, not just the cold from hell, everybody, I have second reason for you to avoid me." I mean, don't you get kind of itchy when you hear someone has Pink Eye? I certainly do. I pull out sponges and start wiping down anything the person could have POSSIBLY touched - in the past year.
Well, to make to make this too-long story a bit shorter, the doctor saw me, started to write my prescription when I suddenly coughed. Her eyes shot up, "Wait a minute, I need to listen to that." I breathed deeply while she moved a stethoscope around my back. I assured her it was no big deal - just the usual. She seemed a bit surprised that pneumonia hadn't spread throughout my system. Even so, she wants me to come back in a week. We'll see what happens - at least the Pink Eye should be gone by then. By the way, if I were anywhere near you in the past few days, get out those bleach wipes and start scrubbing.
I have had one unseemly idea. Can I make money off this? What about offering myself (for a fee, mind you) as a replacement Stand-In-Liner? I will take your place and move you quickly to the front of whatever line you need to stand in. For example, need tickets for some great show? No problem. I'll take your place, start coughing/hacking, rub my infected pink eyes, slowly turn toward others in line and then wait to see what happens. People will flee. I don't suspect this, by the way, I know it. How? This morning I watched people respond to my presence while waiting to see my doctor. It was not pretty.
It's not the horrid visual that creates the rush to escape my presence. It's the sounds. Not my speaking voice - that's the usual husky of a heavily congested person. If it weren't accompanied by other sounds, it might even be a bit sexy but not when one is in the presence of The Cough. My cough is disturbing. It's low, deep, raspy, bronchial - it sounds like pieces of my lungs are coming up with each cough. People stop in their tracks, turn to gape and then quickly move away. Unfortunately for me, it's not new. No, it started in Hiroshima in 1983. It really did. I was one of 13 teachers representing American education on a 3-week trip sponsored by the Japanese government. I visited lots of schools and factories, met many teachers and government officials, toured temples and monuments and ended up representing the larger group of 100 teachers from the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Indonesia as I laid a wreath at the memorial at ground zero at Hiroshima. A few hours later I started the cough that now accompanies every cold I get. Yep, Hiroshima. Interesting, eh?,
And of course, the cough made its appearance this morning in the waiting room. What was kind of amusing was the room's response when the receptionist asked why I was there. Everyone, I am sure, assumed the cold brought me in given that I sounded at death's door. So, when I answered, "I need medicine for Pink Eye" - well the whole room turned to stare. I wanted to stand, curtsy and say, "Yep, not just the cold from hell, everybody, I have second reason for you to avoid me." I mean, don't you get kind of itchy when you hear someone has Pink Eye? I certainly do. I pull out sponges and start wiping down anything the person could have POSSIBLY touched - in the past year.
Well, to make to make this too-long story a bit shorter, the doctor saw me, started to write my prescription when I suddenly coughed. Her eyes shot up, "Wait a minute, I need to listen to that." I breathed deeply while she moved a stethoscope around my back. I assured her it was no big deal - just the usual. She seemed a bit surprised that pneumonia hadn't spread throughout my system. Even so, she wants me to come back in a week. We'll see what happens - at least the Pink Eye should be gone by then. By the way, if I were anywhere near you in the past few days, get out those bleach wipes and start scrubbing.
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