internal monoblog - the weblog of sandra heikkinen

Doctors, throats and crying -- oh my! (or: Sandra as Patient Zero)

Monday, 7 a.m.

Me: (upon waking up, to my houseguest, across the room on the couch) Oh, crap -- I'm getting that change of seasons cold I get every year. Yuck.

Houseguest (the fabulous Bresee): Oh dear. Lots of vitamins for you!

Monday, 9:00 a.m.

Friend at work: Extra Flintstone's vitamins for you today!

Me: You rock. We'll kick this cold's ass.

Tuesday, 7:30 a.m.

Me: (grunting, pointing at throat)

Houseguest: Oh, shit -- your throat's bad?

Me: (squeaking softly) Feels like strep.

Houseguest: We'll find you an urgent care.

Me: You're being so nice to Patient Zero.

Tuesday, 11:00 a.m.

I attempt to get in a taxi and ask to be taken to urgent care, 15 blocks away. I can't actually speak beyond a super-soft whisper. The taxi driver doesn't understand me. I tear up and get out of the cab (note: I can deal with NOTHING when I'm not feeling well), and take about 40 minutes to walk under a mile.

Tuesday, 11:45 a.m.

Me: (to ER triage/check-in person) Need pen. Paper.

ER lady: (pats my arm, hands me a pen and paper to write down my info)

Tuesday, 12:55 p.m.

Doctor: Can you tell me what's wrong?

Me: (pointing to throat) Hurts. Maybe strep.

Doctor: (looking at my throat) Oh my gosh, it's bad in there.

Me: (tearing up)

Doctor: (hugs me) We're going to give you some painkillers, and a Penicillin shot.

Me: No 'cillins. Very allergic.

Doctor: Oh dear. It's not your day, is it?

Tuesday, 5:00 p.m.

I send an email to my boss and coworkers (of just five weeks) explaining that I am Patient Zero, and literally have no voice, and won't be in (again) the next day. Awesome.

Wednesday, 11:00 a.m.

I go to the Starbucks one block from my house, in search of chamomile tea. The woman behind the counter can't understand me, so I type my order on my Blackberry. Cue tears again. And then me laughing at myself for being so ridiculous.

For the rest of the day, I take occasional work calls. On mute, because I am a mute for the day. I also worship the vicodin gods.

Thursday and Friday

Early, early bedtime. Not a lot of talking. Much suffering loudly.

Saturday

I wake up, and realize that I still don't feel good. I call my mom and whine. I then talk to a doctor-friend, who helps me out. I nap. And shop online. And order a tea at Starbucks without crying. And decide that I will absolutely feel better tomorrow. For sure.

Goodbye, strep. I'd like you to leave now. Thanks.

True love (or: meet my new favorite shoes)

Apparently I'm hard of hearing (or: misheard song lyrics)

True story: I was just listening to 'Jet Airliner' on Pandora. A song I've heard a million times, and which I've always thought said -- as opposed to 'Jet Airliner' -- 'Jed in the 'lina'. As in Carolina...?

In all fairness, I didn't know the title before today?

Geography 101 (or: an actual conversation between my brother and a bank teller)

Yesterday, in the Detroit 'burbs...

Brother: Here you go (hands a bank teller a check from his company, and his New Mexico driver's license)

Teller: I'm not sure we can process this deposit.

Brother: Why?

Teller: Hold on; let me ask the other teller.

Brother: Okay...

Teller 2: Sorry, we can't process this transaction.

Brother: I'm confused. Why on earth can you not do this? It's a perfectly good check.

Teller: Let me get the branch manager.

Brother: Alright, whatever.

Branch Manager: (after looking at the check and driver's license) Sorry, sir, we can't process your deposit.

Brother: Seriously, I'm confused -- why? It's my bank account, and the check is to me and is perfectly good. The company's legit -- you can look it up online...

Teller: We sometimes accept things from Canada -- with the approval of the branch manager -- but not from anyplace else outside of the US.

Brother: What are you talking about? The check is from a Michigan-based company.

Branch Manager: But your ID...

Teller 2: Needs to be from the US. Or a passport.

Brother: (lightbulb going off) Oh, I get it. No, my license isn't from Mexico, it's from New Mexico. See? (points at the 'New' on top of the license).

(Teller and Teller 2, and the Branch Manager, stare at him -- and his license -- dumbfounded)

Brother: New Mexico -- the state?

Teller: Sir, we can't accept ID from outside the country.

Brother: Do you have access to the internet here? Look up New Mexico. It's near Colorado and Utah...does Albuquerque ring a bell? It's in the STATE OF NEW MEXICO.

Branch Manager: I do know Albuquerque!

Teller: (looking up New Mexico) Ahh, wow!

(sighs of amazement from all around)