My Hubby Thinks I Have the Plague

I am not certain how this happened but. . . I have pink-eye. Yup. And while I can't blame him, Joel seems very concerned that I might give it to him. Never mind the fact that that only person I know to have had this recently is his co-worker who I had Joel take a Shepard's Pie casserole as a "get well" gesture last week. Any who, the diagnosis process was rather amusing, so I thought I'd share.

Around 1:30 pm I realized that my red and crusty eye wasn't getting any better, so I googled "pink eye", showed Joel the results and asked him to diagnose. He agreed I was infected. The next task was finding a real doctor on a Saturday afternoon. I called the only clinic I knew of, but they closed at 1 pm. I asked if I could wait until Monday to see the doctor and was told no, that I was highly contagious and to get in right away. I asked who I could go to see rather than going to the ER, which seemed to be overkill. They agreed and said to consult the phone book. After doing so, off I went to a little town about 15 miles away where their "clinic" is housed in a trailer. You know the ones; in high school we called them "portables."

When I walked in there was one receptionist working behind a thick glass partition, which would slide open, but she found easier just to yell through. What struck me most was the fact that the place REEKED of cigerrette smoke. As a former smoker I know the smell and man, was it stinky. Fast forward to the male nurse taking my stats. After he started the weight at about 30 pounds more than what I currently weigh, I looked at him and jokingly said, "Really? You think that's my weight? I think we might need to talk." He laughed. Joel later mentioned that you'd think if this was his regular profession he might be a little better at hitting the mark. Male nurse took my blood pressure, temperature, etc. Afterwards he commented that I my stats were "really good." We got to the exam room and he continues to ask me questions and as he's leaving he says, "You're in really good shape. Really. You work out?" I had to laugh. It was officially the closest to getting hit on (and candidly I think it was pretty close) than I've experienced in three years.

After he left the doctor came right in. One good thing about small town med centers is they aren't too busy. I am not certain where the doctor was originally from, but was Asian and had a very thick accent. My favorite moment was when he looked at me and said, "You have pink eyes" as though he could have just as easily said, "your eyes are blue." A simple script later and I should be welcomed back into humankind by the end of the day tomorrow. In the meantime Joel has washed all our towels, the sheets and made dinner in an effort to prevent me from spreading my germs. Hopefully I don't have to sleep on the spare bed in the basement tonight. Although upon mention of the idea his response was, "I didn't think of that."