Thoughts on my way to and from the doctor this morning:
I don't know how I feel about having to turn on a road named after a prize-winning cow in order to get to my doctor's office.
I still can't pronounce my doctor's name. It is long and Indian and starts with an S. In my head I call her "Sand-a-var." Pretty sure that's not right.
Starting today I've added the following to my routine: a stronger antibiotic, new ear drops, Mucinex DM (since I had to stop breastfeeding anyway), steroids, AND A SHOT IN THE BUTT. They gave me a shot. In the butt. Actually, they said "hip," but that's a lame medical euphemism.
The pharmacy told me it would take 30 minutes to have my prescription filled. It took an hour and a half. I managed to keep my impulse-buying under $30. (Those awesome Sterilite storage tubs were on sale.) I consider this a great success.
I'm pretty sure that after this morning, you'll be able to find my sickly, hung over-looking, pajama-clad self on the People of Wal-Mart website. I'm the lady in the pharmacy line with a cart full of storage tubs. In my defense, I SHOULD have been out of there by 9 before anyone had a chance to see me.
I am SO OVER being sick.