Slice with Two Writing Teachers (logo will be inserted later–lousy signal)
If this is immediate care, why am I still here? This is a great place to grade papers except for the germ factory aspect of hacking coughs and germy breaths. A friend for two hours, I share a cough drop, and we share stories. A single mom with her eight-year-old sick little boy flopped on her lap seeks my advice on how to get her son to do his homework sooner. He is with his grandma until 7 PM. I offer suggestions of doing homework with grandma. The boy needs his sleep; that might be why he is here, flopped over his mom feverish. This girl needs her sleep; that might be why I am here.
The papers are graded. The battery on my phone is dead, but I still have my iPad. Now I tackle a slice. The giant Q-Tip has been jammed in my throat. I wait for my immediate care. Immediate care–3 hours later–is that irony?
Flu A and Flu B–what’s it going to be for me? Strep is negative. Seeing my class folders full of papers, the doc infers I work in a school and decides I should have a couple flu tests because Of what is going around. The nurse comes and jabs stuff up my nose–ugh.
Instead of the shots and the drugs, I should do what I need:
- Sleep more.
- Play more.
- Exercise more (more would imply I exercise now–I do walk 10,000 steps each day I teach, but I’m not counting that).
- Drink more…water.
For now I will accept the doctor’s regimen (antibiotic shot on the right hip, steroid on the left hip), but later I should think about what got me here in the first place. Of course, I cannot keep my distance from the school germs. Anyway… I am too worn out to go on anymore than I have already.
Immediate care–the time is 9:16, and still I wait.