Today I went to the doctor.
I didn’t get a minute of sleep last night. Hacking up a lung just kept me awake. I told my husband to check our life insurance policy. Make sure it was up to date and paid for. I wanted to make sure he would be taken care of in case of my ghastly demise – death by phlegm.
New to the area, I didn’t know where to go or who to call. Because my husband is sick too, but not as bad, we both fumbled through the internet physician directory for about an hour until we threw up our hands and just went to the urgent care facility.
After waiting a bit, the doctor came into the cold room. Checked my ears, my throat, and listened to my lungs. In a hoarse whisper, I told her all about my troubles. How I could barely breathe. The coughing was racking my body, and that I just need some serious drugs so I could get some sleep.
Looking down at me, concern in her big brown eyes, she said, “It’s just a cold.”
What? Are you kidding me? I’m dying here, woman!
She gave me some literature about the common cold. How it could last days or weeks and that home remedies are really the best and you just have to suffer through it.
I have my novel to complete this month and all the hacking and stuffy head has brought all my efforts to a screeching halt. It is just not fair. I want to cry.
Well, I am feeling well enough to write this rant, so maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better and will actually finish my book. I’m on the friggin last day. Everything is coming together. The Marquesa is about to kill all the girls along with Lorena. Andreas and Trevino are holed up outside of the castle thinking of ways to storm the place and cause a diversion while Pedro get’s the local aguacil to provide backup while Andreas and Trevino kill Tysimin – the serial killer.
Damn, and I just don’t have the strength to keep my grip on the pencil to write the last bits!
Excuse me, as I go hack up some goobers.