All day that line from National Lampoon's European Vacation has been running through my head. Well, since about 9:30 this morning anyway.
I've been feeling a bit under the weather since about Sunday afternoon/evening. Didn't give it too much thought as King James and Prince Ethan have both been feeling poorly and they were over Saturday evening. I just figured Grandma picked up their bug. Right? Not so much.
When I woke this morning still thinking it might not be wise for me to go to work, BSP needed proof. He's like that in a, "I served in the Air Force for 20 years so tough it up Marine" kind of way. Unless he's the one who is sick. Ahem. SO...I called the doctors office and they got me right in. A miracle in and of itself.
I get there, they ask if I'm feelin' sickly this morning (Nope. Just thought I would stop in and say "hi". Hello!?!?) and I respond in the affirmative and they ask me to put on a lovely face mask. I comply feeling like a complete "LOOK AT ME, I'M SICK" idiot while pretending to look through a Vogue magazine. And by the way, how USELESS is the Vogue magazine!?!?! But I digress..
The nurse calls my name after I've only gotten through the first 30 pages of advertising and I gratefully put useless magazine down and head back. She runs me through all of the "normal" doctor stuff like getting weighed (another JOY of the doctor: that awful scale standing there like the troll on the bridge who won't let me pass unless I pay the toll) blood pressure, temp check, etc. Then she starts asking if I have every symptom of yuck known to mankind. Seriously. I had no idea the were so many different ways to ask a person if they have nausea and well, you know... (And no, thank you very much, I do not.My throat hurts. I'm achy. I'm coughin, sneezin and running a slight temp.) She finishes up and says the doc will be in soon. I barely manage the first 10 pages of the September issue of Good Housekeeping when she pops back in saying doc wants a strep test. I oblige by opening my mouth to very long Q-tip thingy scraping the back of my very painful throat and she bounces back out. I peruse the next 10 pages of Good Housekeeping and my doc comes in. Strep test is negative. And that's when he drops the bomb. "This is not flu season Lisa. You have all of the symptoms of swine flu". And that line "Oink oink my good man" starts it's joyful bellow in my head! I restrained myself from saying it out loud. I'm not convinced he would have understood.
So now I get to sit at home and wait this business out. Am I Uber sick? Nope. Just feels like any other flu. He says the concern is not for folks like me but rather for the very old and infirm and the very young. Translation..I will live but please don't kill anyone else in the process.
Now we've all heard the horror stories for months now about H1N1 so I decided to do a bit of reading up myself. The CDC has some pretty good info here.
So I wait
...cough, cough..sniff, sneeze, oink, oink...