It’s been, let’s see, 8 minutes so far.
Nathaniel stayed home today. He coughs; it hurts. I would love snapping a photo of him in his pre-cough mode, bracing himself against an inevitable uncomfortable experience, face contorted, tongue out, body held in tense suspension, but he would likely object. I am pretty sure he has tuberculosis/bronchitis/a rampant imagination, one of those.
Nine minutes.
There. I have discovered the speakerphone button on this phone. That helps, since it’s awkward typing (using my 2-3 fingers) while also holding a phone pinned between my ear and shoulder.
Ten.
At least I have Rufus Wainwright to keep me company. Hold-music has improved. It could be worse.
Hey! They picked up! I almost told the nurse I was too busy blogging to talk to her, could she call back at a more convenient time? But no, never mind. I can talk (speakerphone) AND type. They will squeeze us in at 7:10 tonight. Yes! The wonderful U.S. healthcare system. Don’t get me started, but hey, at least we don’t have to wait 6 months like they tell us the Canadians have to do (yes, yes, I know that’s one of the many myths we Americans are subject to about Canadian healthcare, and oh, is this my first foray into anything remotely political on this blog? why yes it is. huh.), so I’d better count my blessings and be grateful.
Okay! On to more important things…
Someone (Eric, the self-appointed door-closer) closed Nathaniel’s bedroom door yesterday morning at some point. Early in the afternoon I heard faint muffled meowing and realized I hadn’t seen the cat in awhile. I could see black feet through the space between the bottom of the door and the floor. When I let him out, he was incredibly friendly and almost seemed…grateful. Gratitude is not a normal state for cats. Ego told me that not only was he grateful but that he missed us! Look at him! He’s purring and rubbing himself all over; he definitely loves me!
Yeah. Well. He’s also a cat. I should not forget that. Cats are in it for the cats, and that’s all. Everything else is an illusion. Remember this.
At 10 pm Nathaniel dragged himself to bed after finishing his homework (which had been pushed back in the schedule due to some important computer-game-playing and blog-reading), trying not to cough. Shortly he was back down. That’s when we found out the True Nature of Cat Behind Closed Door.
“Shadow pooped on my bed.”
At 10 pm, all I could do was suggest a different blanket, throw a sheet over everything, and wonder why Nathaniel never noticed it all afternoon/evening when he was resting, sick, on his bed and playing said computer games/reading. And I could make this helpful observation:
“At least it’s a dry poop.”
March 6th, 2008 at 10:35 am
Um, I have several points. First of all, your country is probably lying to you (as you suspect): MRIs and kidney transplants do take 6 months, but a trip to the doctor’s office usually is a same-day thing, or at least same-week.
Secondly, is it just me, or is Rufus the new darling of the blogosphere? Is North America’s (Okay, mostly Canada’s) dirty little secret the latest beneficiary of newly-minted cult status?
Thirdly (I did promise “several”), if you run out of snark and morosity from Rufus, you can check out his sister, who has a new album coming out in June: http://www.marthawainwright.com/
March 6th, 2008 at 11:35 am
Go political baby, I’m here to tell you it’s good for me. It’s even better if you simply regurgitate someone elses smart sounding words.
I never cease to amaze myself.
March 6th, 2008 at 12:08 pm
Mike: Or, you could hop across the border and use one of our many (some say too many) MRI machines. Someone would surely take your $2K CAN (a steal at today’s US dollar devaluation) for a little magnetic resonance action.
Baby: Don’t tempt me.
March 6th, 2008 at 1:46 pm
At least.