My Doctor Should Have Been Billy Mays

This morning when I woke up, before my feet even hit the floor, I knew something was wrong. My head felt as heavy as Dog the Bounty Hunter's wife's boobs. My body was as stiff as Anna Nicole Smith's (bad joke I know but I don't care). My nose was running like Billy Mays' after a coke binge. My temperature high as.....ok I have no catchy saying for this but let's just say I was in no shape to go to work.

I spent the morning trying to come up with ways to breathe without sounding like a hippo that couldn't catch its breath. I slept. Slept some more. I took a dose of something fabulous that made me loopy and I slept some more.

By about 2 p.m. I decided a trip to Urgent Care was in my future. I might as well go today rather than miss more work tomorrow going. When I arrived at Urgent Care I realized there would be nothing urgent or caring about my visit. I called my regular doctor's office and holy crap they could see me right then!

I arrived at the doctor's office and within a matter of minutes my name was being called. WOOHOO. DRUGS COME TO MOMMA! A few minutes later the doctor came in and decided he would test me for everything under the sun. Results: flu-negative, bronchitis-negative, bird flu-negative, South American ostrich appendicitis-negative. Hmmmmm.

After all the results he decides to ask a few more questions and delve deeper into my psyche. Until now I thought my psyche was only full of things like cheesy crab, chocolate milk and Dog the Bounty Hunter. Apparently, not so much. Within 15 minutes I was crying. I don't cry in front of people but I have cried in front of this doctor at least 3 times. I consider it my own personal way of making him as uncomfortable as possible.

After a few "mmhmm's" and just as many "I totally understands" we had a diagnosis. A horrible case of "the crud" and....wait for it.....wait for it..... depression. WTC!!!!

Anyway, without going into too many details, I got a shot in the butt (now my butt is depressed too), some awesome cough medicine and a speech about my happiness mattering just as much as anyone elses, oh and apparently a scrip for some happy pills but I prefer to hit up Billy Mays dealer. Mays was freaking happy and JUST FOR $19.95.