So I am sick. Again. Since Amelia was born, I've had five ear infections, countless runny noses, three upper respiratory infections, and a nasty two day stomach virus that made me experience one of my biggest fears (vomiting) multiple times. (Vomiting is just wrong. It's your body defying the laws of GRAVITY. Listen here vomit...gravity is the law for a REASON.)
I've basically become the destination for busy viruses and infections looking to get away from it all. The baby is obviously selling timeshare property in my upper respiratory track. And all these viruses are telling their friends and bringing their Aunt Mabel and their cousin Howard on these visits, because I am SICK ALL THE TIME.
There is only one upside to all of this sickness...Dr. V. at the walk-in clinic in Clermont. Now this particular walk-in is totally out of the way for me to go to...but the one closest to me is ghett-o. So take my advice women of Central Florida...go to the Clermont Centra-Care. It's totally worth the trip...hell...I might be feeling down enough to mosey on over there today...
Oh Dr. V...if only we didn't have to meet with mucus acting as a chaperone. Sigh.
Even Joel agrees that he might just be the dreamiest doctor he has ever been to.
I don't know exactly what it is about Dr. V. Maybe it's because he let me sob all over him when I was pregnant and had the flu and he wouldn't prescribe me anything because of the slightest chance of harm to the baby. Or maybe it's because he actually looks at you when you are talking...even when you've got pink eye and have all sorts of goopy shit on your face. Or perhaps it's just because he's so tall and handsome. Who knows...my fantasy dreamland doesn't need to be rational.
So at my last visit that was fueled by an abundance of mucus (I wrote and rewrote that line at least four times...trust me here...there is no good way to talk about snot)...I finally got up the courage to do something I almost never do...ask for help.
And here comes the confession. I'm a (wait for it...wait for it...) smoker.
Since the age of 16 I've chugged down at least half a pack a day of Marlboro Menthol Milds...and then after I had the baby...I slowly returned to being a half a pack a day smoker. Somebody call the bad mother line...we've got a live one. I don't know what it was...getting to have a ten minute break away was what I needed...and before I knew it...I had a habit again.
So I asked my beloved Dr. V. about what my options were...I'd already tried the patch, the gum, my own crappy willpower...I was ready to turn to the sweet world of pharmaceuticals.
That was when Dr. V. informed me that I would need to speak to my primary care doctor about that. What? But Dr. V....you are my primary doctor...hell...you're my only doctor!
And this was when Dr. V. and I broke up...if he couldn't see how hard this was for me...well then I just didn't think we could make it. And just like that...my doctor fantasy went poof. (Well...mostly...I am the forgiving type you know...next time I've got more boogies than I know what to do with...Dr. V. and I might have a little rebound action.)
So now I'm off on my quest to find a primary care physician! Know any good ones in the Orlando area? I especially like the ones who never have cold hands...and ones who don't keep you waiting for forever...and if they happen to give out lollipops that's a plus too. Not that I'm picky or anything.
