Talk About Needing A Sick Day

Wednesday I had sushi with Matt at our favorite location, Wow Sushi, and he was still recovering from a cold that knocked him out last week. By the end of class that night I was starting to get the feeling I was coming down with something, my throat was sore, my nose a little stuffy, it wasn't good news.

By the next morning, when I should have been getting ready for work, I was feeling awful, and knowing that this cold had kept a few of my friends home from work for a few days I thought that maybe I could stay home, get some rest and maybe take this thing out before it got any worse. I called in sick to work, slept till about 11 and ate some grapefruit, an orange, really trying to get some good vitamin C in me.

Mikey, being the greatest boyfriend ever, decided to make some homemade chicken noodle soup for me. He had to leave for a little while, so I got the chicken in the pot and got it boiling. When the chicken was done, I pulled it out and started working on cutting up some veggies, starting with my least favorite the onion.

My family loves to tease me about how accident prone I am in the kitchen, I have cut my fingers, burned my hands, and drop endless amounts of food on the floor, for Diesel to come by and gobble up. So there I was, all alone in the house, and I nearly slice the tip of my finger off. I rush to the sink and get it under some water at just the right time to see my mommy pull up. Its funny how we can have situations under control until we see mommy and then break down like little children. Oh yea, I start to cry and she comes in and thankfully she's been studying medical everything, so she goes and gets some gauze and some tape and gets it to stop bleeding long enough for her to look at it and try to determine if I need stitches. Rule of thumb is that if a cut is on your hands, feet or face, you should get stitches cause you move them too much for it to heal right. Thankfully, I am skilled at slicing my fingers, and my knife was nice and sharp so it appeared to be staying closed without assistance.

With a new band aid, my mother then asks, "When was your last tetanus shot?" Good question, I think I was still in high school the last time I ever volunteered my arm for a good needle stick. Which actually, as I think of it, my last tetanus was just before I fell off a ladder onto a box of nails, while I was building the set to the show Fall of the House of Usher, in tenth grade. So my answer was about 10 years ago. She insists that I get a new one. So off the the pediatrician that she works for part-time to get a lousy tetanus shot. And I didn't even get a lollipop.

So now, my arm hurts, my head hurts, my finger kinda hurts, but its actually more annoying with a band aid on it, I can't breath and I am still home sick from work.