DC is an eerie town during the holidays. Closed are the stores, deserted are the streets. Even my family left for the other coast, leaving me with an empty house, a senile cat, and silence for a week.
Did I weep about my sad existence when they left? No, I did not. This morning, I donned a pair of fancy aviator shades, inserted a Madonna cd in the stereo, and pranced around the house, squawking into my toothbrush, pant-less with my underwear on my head. The cat really got a show while waiting to be fed.
And then I got dressed and went to work.
You can't say that I don't make the best of situations.
Happy Holidays!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
The T.M.I. entry
I had a rough weekend battling a sore throat, cough, and congested snottiness. It was no surprise that I did not want to get out of the nest of my bed this morning to go to work.
When I finally lumbered into the bathroom to get ready, I looked in the mirror and experienced a Tom-Hanks-BIG moment. Who - or WHAT - was that staring back at me? My right eye was distinctly smaller than the other, weepy, and bloodshot. I looked like a demonic troll. It was not a good start to the day.
After dilly-dallying, I finally left the house and arrived at work just shy of 9:30am. My officemate took the day off so I had the whole room to myself. Throughout the day, I kept to myself and limited any in-person interactions as much as possible.
At around 2:30pm, my sister called to see how I was faring. I described my eye condition to her and she had a fit, putting the both of us into crisis mode.
"Conjunctivitis! That is pink eye! You must RUN TO THE DOCTOR RIGHT NOW!!!!!" she screamed into the phone, "Do you hear me? CON-JUNC-TIV-ITIS!!!"
One of my co-workers just happened to walk into my office at that very moment. I frantically tried to lower the volume on my cell phone and shield my fang-baring face from her.
"Are you okay?" she asked with a tinge of pity in her voice.
"Oh. Um, yeah, I'm... congested," I sputtered.
I put the phone back to my ear and my sister was still yelling about conjunctivitis, "It's highly contagious!!!!"
"Listen, you don't know that I have conjunctivitis," I hissed into the phone. I gave my colleague an apologetic look, who upon hearing "conjunctivitis" immediately jetted out of the room.
"You have to go see the doctor. RIGHT NOW."
"Look, before I trek all the way to the doctor's office, I'm going to make sure I need to see someone about it first," I said before hanging up.
I then called my health insurance provider and waited to speak to a nurse. I described my symptoms and expressed my concern about the possibility of having pink eye. The nurse was calm (unlike a certain sibling that I know) and asked me a series of questions about my troll eye.
"Is the discharge clear or green or yellow?"
"Clear."
"Is your eye swollen? As in, have people looked at you and said, 'Oh my god, what happened to you?!'"
"Um. No? I mean, it's slightly smaller than the other but not so much that it has caused alarm in my office."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really. It feels a bit itchy."
"Does it feel like you have something in your eye or do you have trouble seeing because of cloudiness?"
"No. The film I feel on my eye seems to go away after I blink a few times."
"How is your immune system?"
This is where I felt like I was being asked a trick question.
"Um... bad?"
"What I meant was that do you have H.I.V. or cancer?"
"Oh, no."
"Have you had any unusual vaginal discharge?"
Uncomfortable silence. Where was she going with this?
"Um... No. Not unusual??"
Thank god my office mate wasn't in that day.
"I ask because conjunctivitis may be a symptom of chlamydia."
"Oh. Right. I don't think I have that."
And on and on. The nurse finally concluded that I likely did not have pink eye but suggested that I engage in some OCD hand-washing for the rest of the week. I got off the phone ECSTATIC not only because I probably didn't have pink eye but also because I did not have HIV, cancer, or an STD. But I left the office and went home early anyway.
What will tomorrow bring? I can't wait to find out...
When I finally lumbered into the bathroom to get ready, I looked in the mirror and experienced a Tom-Hanks-BIG moment. Who - or WHAT - was that staring back at me? My right eye was distinctly smaller than the other, weepy, and bloodshot. I looked like a demonic troll. It was not a good start to the day.
After dilly-dallying, I finally left the house and arrived at work just shy of 9:30am. My officemate took the day off so I had the whole room to myself. Throughout the day, I kept to myself and limited any in-person interactions as much as possible.
At around 2:30pm, my sister called to see how I was faring. I described my eye condition to her and she had a fit, putting the both of us into crisis mode.
"Conjunctivitis! That is pink eye! You must RUN TO THE DOCTOR RIGHT NOW!!!!!" she screamed into the phone, "Do you hear me? CON-JUNC-TIV-ITIS!!!"
One of my co-workers just happened to walk into my office at that very moment. I frantically tried to lower the volume on my cell phone and shield my fang-baring face from her.
"Are you okay?" she asked with a tinge of pity in her voice.
"Oh. Um, yeah, I'm... congested," I sputtered.
I put the phone back to my ear and my sister was still yelling about conjunctivitis, "It's highly contagious!!!!"
"Listen, you don't know that I have conjunctivitis," I hissed into the phone. I gave my colleague an apologetic look, who upon hearing "conjunctivitis" immediately jetted out of the room.
"You have to go see the doctor. RIGHT NOW."
"Look, before I trek all the way to the doctor's office, I'm going to make sure I need to see someone about it first," I said before hanging up.
I then called my health insurance provider and waited to speak to a nurse. I described my symptoms and expressed my concern about the possibility of having pink eye. The nurse was calm (unlike a certain sibling that I know) and asked me a series of questions about my troll eye.
"Is the discharge clear or green or yellow?"
"Clear."
"Is your eye swollen? As in, have people looked at you and said, 'Oh my god, what happened to you?!'"
"Um. No? I mean, it's slightly smaller than the other but not so much that it has caused alarm in my office."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really. It feels a bit itchy."
"Does it feel like you have something in your eye or do you have trouble seeing because of cloudiness?"
"No. The film I feel on my eye seems to go away after I blink a few times."
"How is your immune system?"
This is where I felt like I was being asked a trick question.
"Um... bad?"
"What I meant was that do you have H.I.V. or cancer?"
"Oh, no."
"Have you had any unusual vaginal discharge?"
Uncomfortable silence. Where was she going with this?
"Um... No. Not unusual??"
Thank god my office mate wasn't in that day.
"I ask because conjunctivitis may be a symptom of chlamydia."
"Oh. Right. I don't think I have that."
And on and on. The nurse finally concluded that I likely did not have pink eye but suggested that I engage in some OCD hand-washing for the rest of the week. I got off the phone ECSTATIC not only because I probably didn't have pink eye but also because I did not have HIV, cancer, or an STD. But I left the office and went home early anyway.
What will tomorrow bring? I can't wait to find out...
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