It's been a week now. I ache. My eyelids hurt when I blink. I just finished researching who makes AirBorn as I make plans to sue.
The TV is my new best friend. Never a big fan before, now I lie mesmerized watching any and every segment of drivel that comes on... not because it has such profound entertainment value but because I'm so freaking bored...and it's the one thing that takes practically zero energy.
As a diversion, I wobble over to check my online dating messages. Interesting. I have two emails from doctors, both local. (I note how they work "doc" or "doctor" into their user names. Probably no accident.) Ok, maybe the Universe is smiling down on me. I'm sick. I get doctors.
The first email says,
"You have piqued my interest with a fascination hitherto reserved for a catalogue of honeymoon accessories.... I do not enjoy typing. I never mastered the art of typing, because I was convinced that I was entitled to a secretary who would take my dictation. How could I possibly imagine that one day typing would be paramount to finding the woman of my dreams. So call me; doctor's orders: (leaves phone number)"
Not having the energy to sit too long at the keyboard, I glance briefly over his profile, determine that it is quite possibly a portion of his dissertation, and wobble back to the couch grabbing my cell phone on the way.
I don't always make phone contact this early on but dire circumstances call for dire measures. I introduce myself. He's thrilled to hear from me and begins to make plans for us to meet and spend the entire day together.
"Uh... that's sounds lovely, but ..well.. I'm sick. The flu, I think." [translation: I would never meet you this soon, but today I happen to have a very real excuse.]
Doc407 proceeds to tell me that he will come over immediately and make soup for me. It seems that in my brief scan of his profile, I missed that he was a gourmet cook. As tempting as it sounds, I explain that that was just not going to happen.
I switch subjects immediately to get his fantasy out of my kitchen and asked him about his work. Ahh his opening... I get the introduction to his lecture on "alternative medicine and preventive lifestyles." I see where it's going...
"Have you eaten any animal flesh in the week preceding your illness? ... Yes? Well, there you have it. It's your fault."
I start to cough violently in the background and explain that I'm starting to feel much worse. I assure him that it's not necessary for him to rush to my aid. I'm sure I'll be fine after I take my medicine.
"Medicine. You aren't really going to take those toxic pharmaceuticals, are you?"
"No, never. I make them myself. (Cough, cough, cough) Got to go now. The next batch is almost ready."
As I drift off to sleep, I wonder if the other doctor has possibilities...but I'm too tired to check.
Note: the name Doc407 has been changed to protect the "innocent."
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