Now I'm Officially Sick

Made it in to the doctor today and had it confirmed what I already knew: I have a sinus infection. He said my right eardrum was bright red, which might explain why it hurts like a sonofabitch when I swallow sometimes. Not every time, mind you. Just at random times, which makes me hesitant to swallow. Then, just as I've forgotten about it - YEOW - gotcha.

"So I guess this means I shouldn't go to PT tomorrow, huh?" I asked coyly. He looked up from his notes with a 'You gotta be kidding me' expression on his face. "No. You shouldn't. No PT tomorrow. Just lots of rest, and lots of fluids, and take your meds." He returned to his notes, shaking his head, but smiling just the same. I like my PCP. He's a real nice guy. This is the first time I've actually had to see him for being sick. Actually, this is the first time I've seen any doctor for being sick. [MS doesn't count - it's not being sick, it's a condition, a disease. Nope. Doesn't count.] Any of the other doctors I've seen has been for various routine preventive visits. Funny to think that, for as many times as I've been to a doctor, it has never been for any garden variety illness; even as a child.** And I have taken my meds, and I've had some water and tea, and I have not rested - so I'm not a fully compliant patient. Sue me.

Okay, a few words on the Romeo front, just because I know you are all dying to know how it's working out. Well ... Romeo is a keeper. He's very bright, and very sweet, and I don't think I've had my face licked this much by a dog in my life, and I've owned more dogs than I can count on one hand. He has ONE very bad habit - he counter grazes as soon as the last bedroom door closes and the house goes quiet.

First night he brought the C@dbury egg bag to his bed (it was still full), a spoon, and the corning ware covered butter dish, which he licked clean.

Next night, he moved several things aside to reach the butter dish, and he managed to flip a spoon out of the sink and it landed across the kitchen. He got caught that time.

Today, while we were out, the clean and empty butter dish was in his bed, AND a tightly covered box of donuts was near his bed. Four donuts were missing. He liked the old fashioned variety, and left the cream-filled Bismark and apple fritter for me.

DH said, "You're not going to eat that, are you?"

I said, "Sure. Why not?"

DH said, "It was in the dog's mouth."

I said, "He hasn't taken any bites out of it, it didn't land on the floor. AND HE HAS LICKED EVERY SQUARE INCH OF MY FACE WITH MY MOUTH CLOSED AND OPEN . . . . So Yeah, I'm going to eat them."
He said, "Well fine. You go ahead and eat the donuts with dog cooties. because I don't want them."

And so I will. [Assuming, that is, that the fritter is still there tomorrow morning. I had the Bismark this afternoon and it was tasty with my latte.]


So - Romeo still needs to learn some limits.

Good Night, TTYL, and Be Well,