Not dying... yet
So I went to the doctor yesterday convinced that I was either getting pleurisy, pneumonia or some rare disease. (I was in the waiting room so long that I nearly read Steve Martin's "Shopgirl" in its entirety. OK, it's a novella, but STILL.) The doc tries giving me more cough syrup because she thinks my chest hurts from coughing so much. I tell her I'm really not coughing much anymore and I'm really worried about this pain in my chest/back. It feels like my chest is full of cement, I tell her. She says, in her heavy Egyptian accent, "OK, now you're scaring me. Let's get you an X-ray."
The X-ray shows no pneumonia, pleurisy or rare disease but it does show some irritation in my bronchial tubes. She gives me an inhaler and some pain pills (yay!) I stop by Jack in the Box on the way to the pharmacy, and there's this guy with a mullet working the drive-thru. I need to explain here that my doctor's office is not in Baytown but in Highlands, which, as Rachael explains on her myspace, is not even a city -- it's a community. It's a quiet little town where old trucks bearing bumper stickers such as "MY PRESIDENT IS CHARLTON HESTON" are not uncommon. I'm just trying to explain why there is a Mullet Man in the JB drive-thru.
Anyway, Mullet Man is a very friendly guy who asks why I'm not smiling. I say, "Oh, I'm sick. I just came from the doctor." Mullet Man says, "I know what you mean! Every year at this time it just feels like my chest is full of cement!"
So, it's not enough that I don't have some rare disease to explain why I've been feeling bad all week. What I have is apparently so common that even Mullet Man at Jack in the Box has it.
Completely unrelated to my story: While I was standing in line at the Target pharmacy, this overly hairy guy in a Hooters T-shirt lugged a 24-pack of Charmin up to the counter and yells, "CAN I GET A PRICE CHECK ON THIS?" I'm glad I was feeling too bad to laugh because I probably would have wet my pants.