It's always something...

I'm certain all of my loyal fans noticed the absence of a blog post this past Friday :) I was home sick. I had been sick all week, and figured I'd try and break the vicious cycle and get some rest. Well, I was home with Henry, since he's usually with my parents on Fridays, and I figured I would give them a break and keep him with me. As you can imagine, rest was the last thing that I got on Friday. I swear it, it was more work and more stress than being at work. Hank was just cranky and tempramental, and it was a tough day all around. Things didn't get better until I went to my bellydance class in the evening. This is the beginning of a new class session, and we're starting a new routine. Excited :)

At any rate, I try to get some rest Friday night. I've been coughing to infinity for a week, so I *really* need some sleep. We get a light dusting of snow Friday evening. 1:30 am Saturday morning, what do I hear? Our neighbor's slow removal service loudly plowing snow from her driveway. They were so loud, I thought something had actually hit our house and caused it to vibrate. So, clearly, at that point I was up. And then what happened? I started to cough. And cough and cough and cough. I coughed until I had to move to the guest bedroom for fear of waking Mike and Hank, and miserably coughed until morning. It was not a good day.

Saturday night. I'm sure you see where this is going. Light dusting overnight. 3:30 am - plow comes up neighbor's driveway and wakes me out of an absolute SOUND SLEEP. I was completely incredulous. There is NO WAY that they don't realize how much noise they make, and how close the houses are to each other in our neighborhood. It is so completely obnoxious that I am speechless. So I'm awake, and I begin to cough. I move to the guest bedroom. I notice that my eyes are real nasty and gunky. I'm grossed out, get rid of aforementioned gunk, and figure it's just my eeeevviiilll cold draining something particularly offensive. Toss and turn until morning, and stumble into the bathroom. One look at my face reveals an unpleasant reality - I have pink eye. Both of my eyes are swollen. The left is extremely red and the right is getting there. I wanted to cry. Pink eye is extremely contagious, and the last thing I needed was to pass it on to Hank. Plus, it was Sunday. Not exactly easy to get ahold of the doctor. I was scheduled on the reference desk in the afternoon. The Catholic Librarian was *most* unhappy.

So, I call the service of my new doctor. Some random other doctor is covering her service for the weekend. Fine. I call at 8 am and leave the message with the service. Two hours later, I'm still waiting for a call back, and I'm getting seriously pissed. Finally, just after 10, the random doctor calls. I tell him that I have pink eye; let's face it, it's pretty easy to identify. He *refuses* to prescribe drops for me without me being seen. I won't dwell on this, because I'm *still* upset about it. Completely, completely unnecessary. I waited over two hours to be told that I can either wait until the next day and go in to see my regular doctor, or go to urgent care. People, pink eye is NOT urgent. But it's contagious, so I didn't want to leave it. Plus, my eye was feeling itchier and redder by the second. If I didn't get the prescription drops, I wouldn't be able to go to work, and I would risk infecting Mike and Hank. I at first refused urgent care, stubbornly holding to my philosophy (which I maintain) that it is NOT necessary to go to urgent care for pink eye. I eventually gave in, for the reasons I mentioned above.

I arrive at urgent care to be told that my co-pay is *$35*. Once again, I have to not dwell here, because I am still *so* upset about this. $35 could buy Christmas presents for my baby. What did they do at urgent care? Take my blood pressure and temperature and give me one of those lame vision tests where you read the letters off the chart. The doctor walks in, takes one look at me, and proclaims "Oh, you have pink eye." I will NOT repeat what went through my head, because it is so, so vicious, I would have to avail myself of the sacrament of reconciliation. He gives me a prescription for some drops, and away I go. I am UPSET. Between the two co-pays, this little bout with pink eye cost me $50. We do *not* have money like that lying around these days, with Mike back in school. I am very, very upset. What can I say? It sucked.