The Ninth Strange Day

First in a series (I hope).

Twisting popular television shows into something completely unwatchable!

Tonight’s episode: House, M.D.

“Murder, He Diagnosed.” - Hugh Laurie as a gruff but loveable chief medical examiner. Read the rest of this entry »

9:00 AM - arrive at clinic for 9:30 appointment. Sit with mom in waiting room. Mock the “medical information” television in the waiting room. See story about dizziness in the elderly. Dizziness leads to falling which leads to breaking bones. “A leading reason many patients don’t mention dizziness to their doctors is pride” says man on tv. “So it’s true,” I says to mom. “Pride comes before a fall”. Mom informs me that I’m much funnier when I’m sick.

9:33 - Vitals are taken.

10:00 - ….

10:15 - See doctor. See doctor examine. Look, doctor! Look! See the icky badness! “Oh noes,” says the doctor. “We must get a throat culture”!

10:30 - Doctor goes to get tech to take culture. Returns and says culture will be done at The Lab. “Sit and wait for paperwork, plz” says doctor.

10:31 - Sit and wait.

10:45 - Continue to sit and wait.

11:00 - Get fed up. Ask what’s going on. “I need culture” I rasp! (inner voices says “you need new wardrobe as well. WTF iz up with teh pink sneakers?”)

11:05 - Drop off antibipiawearaodtics prescription. Go next door to lab.

11:07 - Lab scoffs. “We no do this here, silly person with pink sneakers! You must go to clinic!” “But clinic made me go here,” sobs I. “You call them and tell them to do their job. I’ll go there and whimper.”

11:08 - Consider sitting on floor and crying.

11:10 - Get culture. Wardrobe unchanged. Gagged and nearly spit up on poor tech. There There^TM.

11:15 - Get pudding (butterscotch) and coffee (Starbucks) in hospital cafeteria. Hospital has good food unless you’re a patient (have been patient there before; know this for a fact). Do not mention that while halfway through pudding, realise pudding looks like stuff-in-nose. Finish pudding anyhow.

12:00 Noon - Get prescription. $45 for five antibiotics. Consider sobbing.

After that - leave hospital. Go to supermarket. Buy more tissues, Gatoraide, and jello in cups. Also buy lemon sorbet (non dairy). Come home. Text Kitti. Take antibiotic. Drink gatoraide. Whimper loads.

Further to mention:

• The YELLOW elevators go to urology.
• Every “code red” instructional sign in the hospital requests that you pull the “closet” fire alarm. I assume that they meant to say the closest fire alarm. Unless they really do have fire alarms that have not yet admitted to their friends and family that they are actually fire alarms.

I was going to include something along the lines of “even prisoners in jail do it” but thought that might be in poor taste. So be glad I didn’t go there.

Source

Curators say a Norwegian exhibition on homosexuality among animals has been well received, despite initial indications of strong opposition.

The Oslo Natural History Museum opened the show last week and says it has been well attended, not least by families.

Organisers reported early criticism of the project, and being told by one opponent they would “burn in hell”.

But there has been strong interest in an aspect of animal behaviour the museum says is quite common.

It says homosexuality has been observed among 1,500 species, and that in 500 of those it is well documented.
Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve officially been sick since the sixth of October. I call foul. Fowl. And possibly also fool.

I can’t breathe through my nose at all and my throat is swollen and gross. It hurts to swallow.

Kitti’s cold is getting better. Steeb has yet to get sick. Jerk.

I’m at work, though! Infecting everyone. I was a plague rat in a previous life.

Kitti: (says nothing; concentrates on examining something in Gizmo’s fur)

Me: Cookie crumbs.

Kitti: (looks up, eyebrow raised)

Me: What! I was eating a cookie! She was on my lap!

Kitti: (brushing crumbs out of the cat’s fur) ….. cookie crumbs….

Steeb: (walks into the kitchen) Your baking soda fell out.

Me: Yeah, it’s been doing that.

Steeb: I’m going to go put socks on now.

Me: Thanks for sharing.

Steeb: It’s not like I said “I’m going to go for an enema now”. That would have been tragically oversharing.

Me: It’s mind-boggling how completely normal these conversations are.