THeRe'S An AnGeL On My ShOuLdEr...

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

They Call Me Florence.... 

Nightingale that is.

The last few days I've been playing nurse to my very sick patient. Actually, I'm totally amazed. It's usually me that's at deaths door. Ever since a bout of Viral Meningitis followed by Chronic Fatigue back in 1991, my immune system has been shot to bits. This time however, although I also got the lurgy, I have managed to get over it with relative ease. My Patient on the other hand got so sick, that yesterday I took the day off work to look after him. Something I am being punished for today. Apparently I'm so valuable at work, they can't live without me! Ha! If I'm so damn good & so invaluable, why the hell do they continue to exploit me? (as well as the other Intelligence Analysts) Grrrrrrr. I had my dummy spit this morning & I've had to grovel to the boss. I'd make the same decision tomorrow if neccessary. My family are far more important than my job.

My Patient has this notion that I'm a walking chemist. This is not as a result of any higher learning, University Degrees or other such nonsense, but due to the fact that my immune system leaves a lot to be desired & I (or my family) have taken just about every prescribed drug known to man. So it's a case of 'been there, done that', & I can advise with some authority (personal experience) how certain drugs are likely to make you feel. I KNEW that the antibiotics he was prescribed were likely to make him feel worse before he felt better. They have always made me feel like hell. I didn't tell him though until after he started taking them. He NEEDED to take them, I didn't want to take the chance that he would refuse. You know what men can be like. Stubborn as all hell!

It's a good thing that His Dr Bulk Bills though because the medicine tally is now up to about $90.

Who can afford to get sick?




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