Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I'll Tell You What's Stupid

Today is stupid, that's what!

I was having a GREAT Tuesday, friends, great! I had found and listened to half of my (Pink Floyd) Pulse cd, and was really enjoying some "wish you were here" and "comfortably numb" and then I'd also scored some bonus "learning to fly" ON THE RADIO which never happens because they're too busy torturing me with Kesha and/or Pearl Jam.

I took the kids over to Sassy's sort-of-new-apartment and they had a dandy time trashing her lovely tri-level. Then after a great visit, we headed home.

Casanova had complained of a "hid-ick" aka headache earlier in the day and I'd given him some ibuprofin. No big deal. Then we went upstairs to take a nap. Sure, he was whiny. It was NAP TIME, so that made total sense. What didn't make sense is that he was the heat equivalent of a small boy-furnace. HOT HOT HOT. Yowza. So I took his temperature. 102.5 and that was WITH the ibuprofin that hadn't worn off yet. Ummmm. Yes. Well.

So I called my doc and RE-scheduled for today. You wanted to see him this week, well you're seeing him TODAY my friend. And that was when Your Favorite Writer's day took a stupid turn.

After a LOT of testing (that I will totally be billed for)(and cry about when it happens) we got the answer. The flu. As in the REAL DEAL HOLYFIELD flu. Flu A, if you're curious. Why heavens, it's the very strain that we were all joyously vaccinated against in November. NOVEMBER. Vaccinated.

WHAT THE EFF YO.

Which is what I asked my doctor, and several nurses. They were all "aw shucks, it sucks and that's what happens, here's an anti-viral so you don't all die!"

Let me be clear how much the visit sucked. We got a strep test. Negative. We got a chest x-ray. Possibly pneumonia but we won't know for sure until the radiologist confirms tomorrow. Ooh, the suspense! And then, for the Grand Finale? The flu test Nasal Swab! Or, what I like to call The Brain Scraping Pain Party! Seriously, I had that done in March and it cost me great restraint to NOT kick the nurse. It hurt. that. much.

And poor Casanova screamed so loudly I would bet cold cash that the waiting room lost at least ONE new patient. Or two. Depending.

But it's cool, in theory, because now we're all partying on Tamiflu. Which. According to the Dire Package WARNINGs, might react in a bad way with alcohol. SUCKFEST. I'd totally planned on having a left-over-from-new-year's daiquiri and hoping to kill some germs with rum.

And I'm bitterly (bitterly!) disappointed in our Great Vaccine FAIL of the New Year. I'm sorry. I'm asthmatic. The flu = possible hospitalization and/or death for us. Look it up. I NEED improved chances of dodging that bullet. I mean, in all fairness, a bloody freaking COLD kicked my ass last spring so badly that I was barely able to walk up the stairs without collapsing in a coughing fit and I had to use the nebulizer just to NOT DIE. Imagine the flu, which is, um, a bit more Chuck Norris of the virus world.

So to suffer the indignity and utter annoyance of taking the kids to get shots and then the failure?! I'm very sad inside. SAD. Because it's for my ASTHMATIC KID. Who might already have pneumonia. THAT is dirty, dirty pool, Flu Vaccine.

Do your job.

Because Tamiflu is busy cleaning up your mess. And once again, I'm buying Bomb Pops. (Is there anything they can't fix?)(Answer: NO.)

Comments, questions, how freaking STUPID is this situation?!

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