There is probably nothing more disruptive to the life of any human being than having the flu. It's kind of like Christmas, every year you know it's coming, no matter what, but you're never ready for it.
Try as you may to avoid it, the germs will find you and proceed to swim right through your generous applications of Purell and multiple shots of Airborne. I always find myself trying to isolate the moment when I might have come in contact with the infectious germs. Maybe it was that snot-nosed kid with his mother that I waited on? Or, maybe it was when I ate those five almonds from the Ziploc in my purse without washing my hands. After never being able to isolate the point of contact, I find that it is indeed time to give up, wave the white flag, surrender to illness, and my new home for the next however many days...the couch.
There is always the thought in the beginning of the flu, "If I just lay low for today, maybe it will go away and I'll feel much better tomorrow."
The germs love hearing this. They know that they have you now, and it's only a matter of time before they've got you right where they want you, filling Trader Joe's bags full of countless amounts of Puffs Plus. I'm convinced that the Mucinex commercials are in fact not cartoon animated, but are rather documentary footage of what is actually going on inside my sinuses during flu season. I believe that the booger depicted busily working out on the inside of my sinus cavity with a jackhammer is real, and resides just behind my left eyebrow. I’ve had plenty of time to develop this hypothesis because I grew up a sickly child, and we don't really know why. My lung doctor once told us it was because I was deprived of oxygen at birth, I think it's because my immune system likes watching The View more than it likes outsmarting viruses.
The result of growing up a sickly child is that I have become an excellent diagnostician. If we lived in Mexico, I could have a job at the "Minute Clinic" writing scripts for appropriate antibiotics. For years my co-workers have called me Dr. Chez. Don't know what ails you? Ask Dr. Chez. Don't know how many Advil you should take for that headache? Ask Dr. Chez. I have an affinity for drug dosage, interaction, moderation, and treating the symptoms. Which is fascinating considering I completely self-taught. I have to stop myself from explaining to people what drugs will specifically treat their symptoms, as well as when and why they should go see the doctor. I can also tell you if your snot looks infectious, whether or not you are dehydrated based on urine color, and I am an excellent forecaster of tonsillitis. I'm sure to the objective observer it might seem that I am a hypochondriac of sorts, but I like to see it as an advocate for the good health of myself and others.
My Primary Care Physician decided to take a job at the Veterans Affairs Hospital about a year and a half ago. This was utterly disappointing to me because I had finally found a doctor who was happy with the prescription pad, and always seems to agree on my frightening accurate self-diagnoses. Since then, much to my mother's chagrin, I have been using Urgent Care as my PCP. There I see Walter Scott's Personality Parade of doctors, whom I will most likely never see again. On my last visit, I had some sort of flu/cold thing. The doctor was convinced I didn't have any sort of infection and prescribed me a practically pediatric dose of Amoxicillin and suggested I only have it filled if I got worse. He said, "You seem pretty capable of diagnosing yourself, so here's the script, call me if you have any issues."
Fair enough. I had decided I was sick on a Sunday, this was Tuesday and I was at Urgent Care. By Thursday morning, it was obvious that I wasn't getting better. It was time to go to the Pharmacy. Now, the last thing you want to do when you feel like crap is go to the grocery store, but you do what you gotta do. I packed it up and went to my neighborhood Kroger. Mind you, I looked more like I was going to rob a bank. In lieu of washing my two-day-old hair, I had put on a skullcap, and since I was frightened I might worsen my condition, I made sure I put on enough layers to only rival Ralphie's brother in A Christmas Story. Armed with tissues in my pocket and my doctor's script, I stormed the “Krogue.” I picked up my cart and blazed past the Clorox Disinfecting Wipes dispenser. I mean those were of no help to me now! I had a strategy. Pharmacy first, drop off prescription, then strategically hit all necessary sick food checkpoints. I'm sure the way I looked the college-aged pharmacy tech probably thought I was some sort of crystalmeth-tweeker who had come to rob the place of over the counter Sudafed and the narcotics just for fun, but alas, I had a prescription. How pedestrian. I handed the pharm tech my script and he said, "Would you like to pick it up or wait?"
I replied in my clothespin nose voice, "I needah to waid for it, well I meand I have some shopping to do so...(inner dialogue: I hope you can fill that before they find my lifeless body in front of the Progresso soup display) thanksth."
The pharm tech said to me, "Well let me just make sure we have this one before you go."
My inner dialogue; "If you don't have this prescription then you can just call the squad because I am going to go jump in the river, and further, you have no right calling yourself a pharmacy if you don't have Amoxicillin, the most elementary of all antibiotics!"
Pharm tech, "I checked. We have it. I'll page you over the intercom if there are any issues."
Inner dialogue, "Well thank God.
I replied in clothespin nose voice, "Thanksth, see you in a feweh."
For some reason when I am sick all I want is a list of all the things my mom gave me as a sickly child. The list is as follows in geographic order as these items are found in the grocery store:
ü Wheat Bread
ü Thomas English Muffins
ü Progresso Chicken Noodle Soup
ü Campbell's Tomato Soup
ü Mrs. Weiss' Noodle Soup or Lipton Cup of Soup
ü Welch's White and Concord Grape Juice
ü Goldfish Crackers (Saltine)
ü Orange Juice
ü Cheerios
ü Canada Dry Ginger ale
ü Milk
ü Colby Cheese
I will literally walk around the store looking like the lost member of the Cullen family until these items are obtained, and will convince myself that if I can't have my actual mom there to take care of me, that these are the only things that will make me feel even remotely better.
I completed my list, checked out, went to the pharmacy and picked up my so-commonplace-they're-FREE antibiotics and headed home to my cozy nook on the couch where I would stay.
A person can learn a lot while in solitary confinement flu mode. Your best friend becomes cable. Normally, I have an adversarial relationship with Time Warner Cable. I mean paying $120.00+ a month for something that floats through the air doesn't foster the most warm fuzzy customer relations. This particular week though, I put our differences aside and embraced the world of HDTV, Premium Channels, and a lovely thing they like to call “On Demand.”
On Wednesday of my flu saga I had texted my best friend to report my discovery that new release On Demand movies were now going for a whopping $4.99 for a 48 hour rental! She informed me that $4.99 is now the going rate in America and worldwide because that's what they cost on the gold standard of all media, iTunes. I told her that I thought this was the fleecing of America, but if I were to participate in such a sham, I would most definitely be renting, Life As We Know It with Josh Duhamel and that blonde girl that left Grey's Anatomy. I told her that I thought it was an informed purchase because staring at Josh Duhamel for two hours was bound to make me feel better. However, I was going to try to hold out and utilize my over one thousand already paid for channels and my dozen or so premium channels. Famous last words. My best friend said, "Girl, give it one more day on the couch and you will be chanting, Rent! Rent! Rent!"
Thursday morning after my fieldtrip to the grocery store, I broke down like Kirstie Alley in a bakery. On Demand was mine! I think I wouldn't have cared if it cost $100 a movie, I just wanted to see Josh Duhamel, NOW! Oddly enough, it did make me feel better.
In addition to staring at Josh Duhamel’s pearly whites, I feel I turned my 2011 flu into as much of a research and information gathering venture as possible. I learned a lot of interesting things while trying to entertain myself.
Did you know?
· Barbara Walters is 81 years old
· Dr. Dre is 45
· Hasni Mubarek was appointed Vice President of Egypt in 1975, and assumed the presidency on 14 October 1981, following the assassination of President Anwar El Sadat.
· I think Mohamed ElBaradei seems to make a lot of sense and maybe they should put him in charge of Egypt.
· Gloria Vanderbuilt is still alive and she is 87, and she is also Anderson Cooper's mom who was married to Wyatt Cooper, Anderson Cooper's dad who was an author.
· Cardinal Health is worth like 87 Billion Dollars.
· Amoxil comes in two oral doses, 875mg or 500mg
· There is a new hair removal system called the No! No!
· B. Mackowsky bags are on HSN and "B" Mackowsky looks totally "G" but is married to a famous handbag designer woman.
· It is possible to go through 3+ boxes of 180 sheets of Puffs Plus over the course of four days.
· Lauren Bacall and Jason Robards son Sam Robards plays Nate Archibald's father on Gossip Girl.
· Andrew McCarthy from the 80's brat pack directs Gossip Girl.
· CBS Sunday Morning is the best news magazine on television.
· Joan and Melissa Rivers have a reality show. This I did not know.
· J.Lo looks flawless all the time and her skin looks like coffee ice cream
The greatest thing I learned while in flu solitary confinement was that I'm really lucky. I'm lucky I'm actually a healthy person who has a great family and friends and a life that I am very grateful for. There are a lot of folks out there that their everyday is solitary. So, lesson learned. Please, call your grandmother, she loves you. Take your friends some juice when they're sick, even if you have to drop it on the doorstep. Think and pray for those who can't be out and about all the time. Everyday on this side of the grass is a good day, and I'm thankful for it. 'Til next year flu bug you’re foiled...adios.
