Saturday, August 25, 2007

In Quarantine

All of It
Originally uploaded by Rozanne.
I guess I went slightly out of my mind at the Hollywood Farmers' Market this morning. Here's a close-up of the insanity.

But why shouldn't I have gone insane? They were selling all of my favorite fruit and veg, and there's only that narrow window of time in which you can get some of these things, namely, peaches and nectarines. Oh, how I love them.

In other news, B has strep throat! He'd been battling fatigue and a sore throat since about last Sunday. Each morning this week he would announce that he felt better, only to crash later on in the day. B is all about self-medicating and all about never going to the doctor. So he slugged back mug after mug of Airborne, gargled with saltwater, popped Tylenol and Chloroseptic, and kept assuring me that he was pretty sure he'd be fine "tomorrow."

Well, yesterday he woke up and walked into the kitchen looking like he had the mumps, or as he put it, "a mump." The left side of his face was all swollen and misshapen, and he felt like shit. Not good. Not good at all.

I told him he was going to the doctor, like it or not. He did agree that he needed to go to a doctor, although he was a bit grumbly about it. Of course, he has no doctor, i.e., primary care physician, so he wasn't sure exactly how to proceed. He dragged himself over to his computer and started searching for the Web site of his "bullshit insurance company."

I could see that that wasn't going to accomplish a thing, so I had him give me his insurance card and told him to go back to bed, which he was happy to do and which was exactly what he needed to do. It really is better if I deal with things like this. B has this irksome habit of trying to use the Internet when it would be much better to use the phone. Plus, I just don't see B, never the most patient of men, being able to endure punching through through all the various voice prompts and levels of customer service only to be put on hold and forced to listen to Johann Strauss for 20 minutes at a crack. He wouldn't have made it.

Anyway, I got on the horn to my doctor's office, only to find that she was on vacation as were most of the other doctors in her group. Helpfully, the office suggested this thing halfway between a regular doctor's office and an emergency room called "urgent care." I feel kind of like a dunce for not knowing about urgent care. Anyway, I'm glad to know it exists and to now know where the nearest facility (that takes our insurance) is located.

So, I drove B over there. We sat around for about an hour before being ushered into the inner sanctum. I'm sure the wait could have been much worse. B was given a strep test and then the doctor came in to tell us it was positive. He declared the mump to be "impressive" and prescribed antibiotics and a few prednisone. He also suggested that B get to a dentist within the next few days, because swelling like that can be related to a tooth infection. Great.

Anyway, 36 hours later B is feeling a lot better and the mump is receding into oblivion (I hope). But B is still going to go to the dentist on Monday and lay low for the next few days. I'm glad he's taking this seriously. I was actually pretty freaked out by the sudden development of that kind of swelling.

As for me, I'm knocking around by myself this weekend. All social plans have been canceled just in case I'm some kind of streptococcal version of Typhoid Mary.

I've found ways to console myself for missing out on dinner plans, the adult soapbox derby, Festa Italiana, a symphony concert, and a hike. Yesterday evening, I took a lovely solo walk through Mount Tabor Park and the lovely surrounding Mount Tabor neighborhood. On my way back, I stopped at a video store and picked up Diary of a Mad Housewife, the next installment in Richard Benjamin Fest. That guy is great! And, I'm realizing, he looks and acts (at times) almost exactly like Mr. Bean. An entertaining bonus.

Today, of course, I went nuts at the Farmers' Market, even indulging in flowers! I spent much of the afternoon involved in the eating or preparation of my (edible) purchases. For example, I had what I consider to be a very chic and European lunch of sliced tomatoes, artisan cheese, and peaches. I nibbled on it for a good hour and a half while sitting on the patio and reading. I'd spend my whole life doing this if I could. Later, I whipped this up. I even made the dough from scratch. It turned out great, though I say it myself. B, even in his sickened state, eagerly partook of a slice.

And tomorrow? Not sure. Maybe I'll take a hike or maybe I'll just sit around on my bum eating peaches.

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