Tag Archives: Doc in a Box

How to Get Killed, in One Easy Lesson

19 Sep

I had to go to the local Doc-in-a-Box this morning, and a young man – maybe 12 or so – was trying his best to get his mother to flip him across the room.

First, he refused to sit in a chair, but insisted on squatting on the floor, halfway leaning against the door. Because the door opened out, and he had his back to it, he couldn’t see who was coming in.

The second time, he ended up sprawling on the floor and nearly tripped an elderly woman. Fortunately, Mom was able to grab the lady’s elbow, so no real harm done, but she grabbed the kid by the collar and plopped him in the chair, with one off those “I dare you to move” looks moms do so well. She noticed a quarter on the floor, and told him to pick it up, but was met with shoulder-shrugs and baleful looks.

His younger sister leaned over, picked it up, and stuck it in her pocket.  He immediately started pawing at her, insisting the money belonged to him. “How so?”

“I was the one who dropped it.”

“So you dropped it, but couldn’t be bothered to pick it up?”

Mumble. “Yeah.”

“Seems to me you didn’t want it very much.”

We have a friend who has often said the boys should be nailed into a barrel when they turn twelve or so, and fed though the bung until they turn 18, at which point you can either open the barrel, or drive in the bung.

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Confined to Quarters

11 Apr

Wednesday night, I noticed a soreness on the left side of my throat, going up into my ear. Aspirin and lots of fluids, and figured that was the end of it. By yesterday, I could barely speak, which you may have guessed is pretty serious for me.

Last night, I had a choking fit. My throat was sore and my uvula was so swollen I couldn’t breathe. This morning The Squire piled me into the car and took me to the Johns Hopkins Outpatient Center. (A friend says he has a hard time reconciling the words “Johns Hopkins” with “Doc in a Box”, but that is exactly what it is.) I was so exhausted, and still dopey from the codeine cough syrup, that I fell asleep on his shoulder after they had taken my BP and temperature.  My local cousin’s wife (cousin-in-law?) was coming out just as they called me back for treatment. She spoke to me and asked why I was there, but I couldn’t answer her and just motioned to The Squire. Turns out she also had a scratchy throat, and he told her he hoped she “caught” it before it turned into the monster I have.

Anyway, I am confined to quarters for the duration, and on penicillin, codeine and Chloraseptic until further notice.

I have to tell you, Chloraspetic does work, but it tastes the way an old dog bed smells. I can’t get it in the right place when I spray it, so The Squire has to do it for me. True love, and all that. My throat is still sorest on the left side, so that’s where he aims. I was swishing the stuff around and then swallowing it, but he informed me I am supposed to spit it out. He has been fluffing and patting, plying me with hot chocolate, tea, and soft scrambled eggs.

What would I do without him?

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Enough, Aleady!

21 Jul

This cough we thought had been caused by damage to my trachea while I was in the hospital had gotten progressively worse, until I was coughing almost non-stop  and really wasn’t eating and drinking properly. I mean, it wasn’t all bad – I’ve dropped five pounds -but let’s just say I’m d… sick and tired of the whole business.

Last night The Squire listened to me hacking non-stop for five minutes and then hauled me off to the local “Doc in a Box”, where I received excellent care.  (The doctor resembled the man who delivered my children!) Blood tests, a series of chest X-rays, and all that jazz. I have developed bronchitis. Probably not contagious, but not pleasant. Unfortunately, the only thing to keep the cough under control is codeine, which makes me sleepy.

We were invited to a crab feast this afternoon; I sent The Squire off to enjoy himself.  In addition to slaving over the new kitchen, the dear man has waited on me hand and foot for the last two weeks. If I went, I’d be coughing all over everybody, or I’d fall asleep in the soup.

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