It's hard to believe that so much snot can come from one head, let me tell you. Of course, since I am going off that gatsro thing from last month, it feels relatively not as bad. Although my sinus headache was so bad, I was going around the house, walking like Ozzy Osbourne, screaming at things in general. My wife got sick, too, so all of us are now ill. Major suckage.
Of course, the doctor's visit was pretty humorous. My doctor's office has three physicians. One really good one (our doctor), one that is okay but rather cold and standoffish, and then one who is a big bag of guess who doesn't respect women very much. I got the last one, and he's this guy with a thick accent, and he was okay, and seemed to know what he was doing. But his assistant was a total putz.
This girl is some woman who has far too much makeup, and obviously gets her tips from Cosmopolitan... except the part where it says to "keep a natural look." The first obvious feature that leaps from her face into your plane of view is the lips. They are brown. Brown and outlined in a darker brown. Not a natural brown, either, but more of a sienna that occurs in cheap brands of wood stain. They are also about 20% too small for her real lip line, and sick out too far on each lip. The effect, I would guess, is to make her lips look small and pouty, but I doubt even a teen without a mirror or any good friends would have done such a bad job on their lips as this woman has. It's such a stark contrast to the rest of the face, it almost looks like she's holding a large copper coin in her clenched lips. The rest of her face is over-painted and over-powered, with a CLEAR line of beginning and end where she stopped the process below her jawline that gives such a two-tone color with a solid border, it's like a political map boundary of some Middle Eastern nation and their neighbor. Her makeup is also two shades lighter than her natural skin tone, giving her natural tan look slightly ashen. Her false eyelashes were too thick for as short as they were, and her eyeshadow was the same color as that sparkly brown color they make for model speedboats that faded to an almost gold. This made her eyes look sunken, as if each eye was some black sun fading into a polluted skyline.
This might have been forgivable, except she was dumb as a bag of burnt hair. It took her about five times to get my blood pressure, couldn't find my pulse, and when she weighed me, she thought I was 259 lbs. Okay, now Uncle Punkie ain't no suave beast of grace and slimness. I know I wasn't no 259 lbs, and I feared when I next got weighed, it would show I gained 40 lbs. Finally, I convinced her I was 308 (a drift between 300 and 315), and she said "Ohhh... you blood praysoor ees beddy high... you shoult DOO samting abut det!" I told her I took blood pressure medication, and she says, "Ohhh... okee. What kind?" I told her, but the second I said the medications, she gave me this look like I suddenly shouted in a fake language. So she asked me, "No no hon. What numboor?" What number? I told you, 120 milligrams of... "NO no... I need [gasp, fumble] ... thee numboooor! Nooomber. You know, you call dee pharmacee and you tell dem de noomber..." My RX number? "Yays." I don't know. "Ooooh... okee..." Then she wrote down I was on something called "orthoevra" (which phonetically doesn't even sound similar to what I take), but my doctor laughed when he read the chart and asked why I took an transdermal estrogen supplement, and looked at my arm to be sure I wasn't taking birth control or incorrectly described my sex.
Dear God. But I got my antibiotics, and already, I am feeling way better.
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