Struck down with Pink Eye, I've been relegated to staying home today and not spreading the joy. Conjunctivitis is something I thought only kids got, but alas, here I sit. I feel fine, but from what I've read, it's highly contagious, and so I opted out of work for the day. I go to the Doc in a half hours, oh joy.
What is it about the Dr.'s office that I've come to hate? Is it the old magazines. The viraly infected pens used to fill out the reams of paperwork? The scrutinous, personal questions the Nurse Practitioner/Doctor ask? The comfy paper gowns? The prostate charts on the wall in the room? Or is it the knowledge that it's all costing me and my employer way too much for all of it? I think its safe to say it's all of these rolled up like red cross gauze together that make any trip to the Doctor an unpleasant one.
Perhaps the most memorable trip to the Doc was a few years ago when I went in for what was later diagnosed as pulsatile tinnitus. Basically that means that I can hear every beat of my heart in my right ear in sort of a wooshing sound. (Is woosh a word?)
Anyhow, at this appointment, I had the unfortunate luck of getting an ear flushing. A test designed during and by the Hitler regime, this involves a turkey baster filled with hot water thrust into your ear. Multiple pumps are conducted which creates a sensation a little like the sound of a tornado whirling in your head. My wife calls me a wimp for lamenting about such a benign procedure, but until you've had the experience, you need to shut up. I can't begin to describe the junk that comes out of an ear during this procedure, but suffice it to say I don't know how it all got in there.
Winter appears to be waning, however 40 degrees and grey-dirty-brown-black is not exactly inspiring weather. Today it is misting and overcast. Very typical day-after-St-Patty's-day weather. Actually, very typical Home Opener weather. (April 4th).
I truly think my Dog would try to eat anything. The other day I found a chewed up pencil and a half behind the couch. My guess is the other 1/2 is in my backyard by now or lingering somewhere in doggy esophagus. Our dog also eats dirt, slippers, candy wrappers, clumps of human hair (during Dad's haircut), and of course, anything that moves is fair game too. Man's dumbest friend, so the saying goes. Or is it something else?
The whole family went to an indoor soccer match this past weekend. While we all enjoyed it, I sensed the boy element was enjoying it a bit more than the girls. I thought it was important that we do it as a family, as we rarely venture out as a group. Usually we're paired off one parent/one child.
Ben helped me fill in my NCAA Tourney bracket last night. I don't really pay much attention to BB until the tournament, so his guess was as good as mine, I thought. I picked UNC to win it all, so we'll see where that gets me. Some sleeper will probably oust them in the first round and I'll be stuck rooting for no one for the next 3 weeks. Oh well, the world will turn.
I feel a nap coming on.
Blogging off for now...