Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth
Well, not so much weeping as there is an abundance of mucus (snot) and the "gnashing of the teeth" could be summed up as coughing fits.
I have a sinus infection...and just in time for the wine tasting trip T and I are going on this weekend.
I've been to the doctor, and am now on two weeks' worth of Amoxicillin (I wanted to tell him, "Dude, just hand over the Cipro because the Amoxicillin will take forever!"), and also this nasty nasal spray that hurts when I spray it...and saline nasal spray (for getting all the gunk out of my sinuses, apparently).
I could never be a drug addict because I cannot eagerly snort these sprays up my nose, much less anything else.
The doctor promised that I'd feel better by this weekend, but I'm crossing my fingers anyway. On the day I went to the doctor (yesterday), T took me to have lunch -- matzo ball chicken soup! -- and said, "If you didn't get better, would you cancel on me?"
And I said, "Well, yes, I wouldn't want to get you sick..."
T puffed out his chest and said, "I have SUPER IMMUNITIES, I don't get sick!"
Then he said, "Oh, well...I'd be disappointed if you did cancel. I'd still want you to go even if you're sick. That is, if you felt up to it."
And all I could do was smile. Partly because I can't say two words before I have a mucus-post-nasal-drip-induced cough that interrupts me, but mainly because when he says those things, he makes me inexplicably happy.
I have a sinus infection...and just in time for the wine tasting trip T and I are going on this weekend.
I've been to the doctor, and am now on two weeks' worth of Amoxicillin (I wanted to tell him, "Dude, just hand over the Cipro because the Amoxicillin will take forever!"), and also this nasty nasal spray that hurts when I spray it...and saline nasal spray (for getting all the gunk out of my sinuses, apparently).
I could never be a drug addict because I cannot eagerly snort these sprays up my nose, much less anything else.
The doctor promised that I'd feel better by this weekend, but I'm crossing my fingers anyway. On the day I went to the doctor (yesterday), T took me to have lunch -- matzo ball chicken soup! -- and said, "If you didn't get better, would you cancel on me?"
And I said, "Well, yes, I wouldn't want to get you sick..."
T puffed out his chest and said, "I have SUPER IMMUNITIES, I don't get sick!"
Then he said, "Oh, well...I'd be disappointed if you did cancel. I'd still want you to go even if you're sick. That is, if you felt up to it."
And all I could do was smile. Partly because I can't say two words before I have a mucus-post-nasal-drip-induced cough that interrupts me, but mainly because when he says those things, he makes me inexplicably happy.