Elizabeth Esther

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Monday Evening.

Full-blown sinus infection here. I feel like I've been whacked over the head with an anvil.

Called my new doctor.

"Oh, we don't have anything until the second week of April," says the receptionist/indifferent/soul-less front desk person.

You mean like, after Easter?

"I can leave a message. He might be able to work you in sometime this week."

"Sometime? I have three kids. I cannot be 'worked in' sometime." I am rapidly losing my sweet (albeit congested) Christian-lady voice. Ok, not really. I've never had that kind of voice.

"I can leave a message," she repeats.

"Ohhh-kaaay, so what do you recommend for your sick patients?"

"I can leave a message."

I hang up the phone. Wretched HMOs!!

To bed, to sleep, perchance to not hack up a lousy lung.

update: a few minutes after posting this, the doctor himself called. he did a phone consult and kindly called in a Z-pack prescription for my sinus infection. relief, my friends, is in sight. phew!