All doped up
signs of empathy
when wee one pitches fit, cries
as mommy gets shot
I don’t know what was scarier – getting a giant shot of antibiotics in my butt, or driving home from the doctor’s office and becoming fixated on the train wreck that was some jogging guy’s jiggly, sweaty, hairy-ass back.
Who am I kidding? It was the shot. Though I was really brave about it. (You kind of have to be when your kiddo is in the room watching you.) And it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as some of the shots I got while I was pregnant. Yowzas, those sucked.
Anyway, turns out I’m sick. I didn’t even know it until I almost fainted in the shower this morning. That wasn’t pleasant. I was washing my hair when the sound of the shower started to get muffled. Then purple dots started floating in front of my eyes. Then I tried to prop myself up on the shower wall, but it was so covered in soap scum and various hard water buildup that I just kind of slid down. That worked, OK, though. As I slid down, my head naturally took the “put your head between your knees” position that it’s supposed to take when you feel faint. So I was rescued by the soap scum.
The doc told me I have a sore throat and “drainage” I don’t feel like I have a sore throat. And I don’t feel like I have “drainage” But I do feel kind of shitty. So I’ll take her word for it.
When I get my bearings I’m going to post a letter to Donald Rumsfeld I’ve been composing in my head. I figure I should post it soon so I can blame the medication if it doesn’t make a lick of sense.