Suddenly Seventeen

I promise my lack of recent posts has nothing to do with the Writers strike.

I've had a cold for a few weeks. That's not all that uncommon for me. A few days of a bad cough turns into a few days of a runny nose turns into a few days of just not feeling good and then the cough comes back. It's pretty minor and I've never gone to the doctor for it. It's just a cold. A doctor's visit would be a waste of time, mine and his.

I took two days off from work this week mainly just to take two days off from work. My boss asked that I bring in a doctor's note. A doctor's note for a common cold. By the time I got to the doctor's, I felt fine, my one symptom, a runny nose, being completely cleared up, and I was rehearsing how I would justify to the doctor coming in. "My boss needs a note," was about the extent of it.

I'm losing track of my story. It turns out, while I felt healthy, I had a temperature, 99.1, and she said my glands were swollen and then said I had a sinus infection, which I think is just a fancy word for a cold. It all happened very quickly and I forgot to ask for a note.

The weird part is at the pharmacy. As the pharmacist handed me my meds, she says to me, "You may want to call your insurance company." I'm not sure what it was but I knew I was guilty of something and turned bright red. She explained that the insurance company has my birthday as May 6, 1990. Each part is pretty close, but altogether, it's way off.

So, while it's nice to be ten years younger, I think I need to make a phone call. I'm curious though how my doctor's office didn't pick up on it.