Saturday, February 5, 2011


Well, as many of you may know, I have been sick with the flu and a sinus infection and boy has it been fun.  I personally think I’m very pleasant to be around when I’m sick, but I have a hunch that if you ask my husband and kids, they may tell you otherwise. 
What is so wrong with wanting space when you are sick?  All I ever ask is just to be left alone and let me wallow in my sickness.  I hate when I apparently snap an answer to my husband and he says, “boy someone is grumpy today.”  Am I supposed to be excited and in a good mood because I’m sick?  My teenagers ask me if their friends can come over and if they can go somewhere that I have to take them and I just give them a look that apparently gives the answer no.  I’m picturing smoke coming out of my ears and my eyes turning a nasty shade of neon yellow like Michael Jackson’s eyes in the video Thriller by the way they hurriedly leave the room.  I just don’t understand what is so hard to just give me space. The hint of me holding up my Lysol can, threatening to spray if they come any closer, should be a good indicator that I need it.
Another thing that just chaps me is when you go to the pharmacy to pick up your medicine and it can never go smoothly.  Take my recent visit to Wal-Mart. I get to the counter and ask to pick up my prescription.  She asks me for my name and birthdate and I tell her.  She says, “we don’t have a prescription for you.”  I said, “yes you do because I dropped it off two hours ago.”  She asks me to repeat my name and I do, complete with the spelling and still nothing.  I said, “I know I’m difficult to understand right now because I have no voice so maybe I should write it for you” and she claims that isn’t necessary.  I insist.  So I take out a piece of paper from my bag and write it down in print so she can read my writing.  She types it in and says, “no prescription.” At this point, I ask to speak with a manager and she says she will check to see if they are available.  She goes and talks with her and comes back to inform me that they are preparing to leave for lunch and they will be back at 2P and someone can help me then.  What?  I’m hoping what I’m hearing is just every other word or something considering my ears are clogged so I asked her to please repeat what she just said.  I then realize that I did hear it right.  I proceed to say, “listen, my cheeks are this red, not from a bad blush job, but because I have a 103 degree temperature and all I want is my medication and the bottle of ibuprofen I’m holding in my hand.”  “I was here before anyone even thought about going to lunch so I suggest that a manager come to speak with me now.”  So, she storms off and gets her and she finally comes.  I tell her the problem and give my name and birthdate to her.  What do you know…..there is a prescription and it was ready.  The original girl said to me, “I don’t understand what happened.  I was typing your name Boswell just like she did.”  I had to laugh otherwise I really think daggers would have come shooting out of my eyes at her.  I said its Bothwell….B O T H W E L L.  I honestly still don’t think she got where she went wrong.  I was just praying she had nothing to do with filling my meds. 
I know that it’s hard when you’re sick, especially when you’re a mom, but if everyone could just cooperate with your situation, I think the healing time would be so much quicker.  Don’t get me wrong, I Love my family for wanting to help me feel better and thinking they are doing all the right things to get me there.  If anything, it makes me smile and forget about my misery for a few minutes.  However, I have no tolerance for Wal-Mart and everything else for that matter.  I ultimately just want to feel better and maybe one day, I will embrace the fact that is all everyone close to me wants to.

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