If my phlegm doesn’t kill me, my spotty reception will.
When I am on the phone, the last thing I want to do is have someone on the other end hear me pee in the bathroom. However, because I had been transferred and on hold for fifteen minutes – I had to chance it. Apparently, self-diagnosed bronchitis makes you cough up a lung and almost drown in your own phlegm. That’s why I refused to hang up and call back after peeing. I was serious about getting an appointment with my doctor.
I also knew on some level that the best way to not be on hold anymore was to do something that would make it inconvenient to have an actual conversation with someone. I was sure that the minute I started peeing, someone would finally pick up on the other line.
I was right.
Of course I did not flush. I wouldn’t want to solidify the nurse’s suspicion of what I may have been doing.
My toddler began screaming to be set free from his highchair, and I obliged while confirming with the nurse that I did not feel faint or have any pain in my chest.
She missed half of what I was saying and I spent the next two minutes walking around the house saying, “Can you hear me now? Can you hear me?”
When I finally found a pocket of good reception, I was trapped. If I wanted to keep this call going and eventually get my ass in to see my doctor, I could not move from the 3 foot by 3 foot square in front of my bedroom window.
My toddler sensed this…
naturally he bolted to the other side of the house.
I began to follow, but almost immediately the woman on the other end started saying, “I can’t hear you again. Please try again…”
So I shouted, “NO! I’m here! Can you hear me now?”
And I stayed in my pocket…
and I answered a series of questions…
and I was told there were no appointments today or tomorrow.
As she was telling me about going to Urgent Care if needed, I heard splahing.
I hung up…
and I ran…
to find my toddler throwing toilet water in the air…
from the toilet I didn’t flush.
So that’s all I have to tell you today.
There will be no thought provoking blog post…
just me drowning in my own phlegm,
with no doctor’s appointment,
and a kid who just played in my pee.