Strep and paranoia
Several months back, my phone crapped out, and I no longer had a backup of my data as Carl formatted his hard drive, meaning I lost everyone's name and number. This is problematic for one reason:
When I see a number from the Chicago area that I don't immediately recognise, my mind goes to the worst-case scenario. I have had the phone ring on several occasions, only to be told that another person dear to me was gone, and that has developed into a fear. I see the number come up on the phone, and I don't pick it up. Rather, I think repeatedly to myself, for example: "Please don't let this be about my brother."
It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but considering how often those phone calls have happened -- can you blame me?
So I somehow came down with strep, and I'm not entirely sure how, but I was miserable yesterday until I got diagnosed at a local prompt care. Carl brought me as soon as he got home from work and -- I admit, the experience there was a bit confusing. Despite it being a prompt care run by a local for-profit hospital, as we entered the TV was blaring some sixty year old man talking about bible passages, and the "sick area" had -- no hyperbole -- twelve bibles.
I was hoping to make Chicago's Pride Parade this year, being part of the float for Or Chadash, my old temple. Alas, I still feel iffy as of this writing, and I think doing the parade is a bad idea. A shame, as a) I never see anyone there more than once a year anymore, but more importantly b) I haven't been to Chicago in EONS and haven't been out of Peoria since our Cairo trip, so ... yeah, getting a little cagey here.
When I see a number from the Chicago area that I don't immediately recognise, my mind goes to the worst-case scenario. I have had the phone ring on several occasions, only to be told that another person dear to me was gone, and that has developed into a fear. I see the number come up on the phone, and I don't pick it up. Rather, I think repeatedly to myself, for example: "Please don't let this be about my brother."
It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but considering how often those phone calls have happened -- can you blame me?
So I somehow came down with strep, and I'm not entirely sure how, but I was miserable yesterday until I got diagnosed at a local prompt care. Carl brought me as soon as he got home from work and -- I admit, the experience there was a bit confusing. Despite it being a prompt care run by a local for-profit hospital, as we entered the TV was blaring some sixty year old man talking about bible passages, and the "sick area" had -- no hyperbole -- twelve bibles.
I was hoping to make Chicago's Pride Parade this year, being part of the float for Or Chadash, my old temple. Alas, I still feel iffy as of this writing, and I think doing the parade is a bad idea. A shame, as a) I never see anyone there more than once a year anymore, but more importantly b) I haven't been to Chicago in EONS and haven't been out of Peoria since our Cairo trip, so ... yeah, getting a little cagey here.