Lin, Molly and & I all came down with strep throat. Unfortunately for Molly we didn't find out we all had it until she had been sick with it for 4 days. You can wrap up my mother of the year award now, I'll take it to go.
Listerine + raging sore throat = a not so good idea. I had to pull Lin off of the ceiling and cram ice down her throat. How she figured that was a smart thing to do, I will never know. In the big scheme of things I'm sure she wishes that was a life lesson she didn't have to learn.
Lets talk herpes. Not vajayjay herpes, but the fever blister kind of herpes. I developed this tiny little blister on my bottom lip and I was extremely pro-active in the care of said blister. I put medication on it, but it continued to grow. I called my doc and asked her to please call in a prescription for me before the thing swallowed my face. I picked up the script and I proceeded to slather my lip in the thick, creamy, white balm. Then I waited. Then my lip exploded. Am so not kidding. Remember the scene in the movie The Nutty Professor where Eddie Murphy's lip popped out? That was mild compared to what happened to my lip. The next morning it was even worse. I cried. Then I cried some more. I called my boss and I cried. I called my doctors office, she wasn't in, so I cried. I called the pediatrician who told me to go to an urgent care clinic, then I cried. I called the urgent care clinic and they told me they were only taking babies for well check-ups, then I cried. Then I called Lin and I cried while she told me to go to the emergency room. I caved. I didn't want the expense of an emergency room visit but it seemed I had no choice.
This visit went relatively quick, I guess there aren't a lot of sick people at 8:30 on a Friday morning. Lucky me. Evidently I had an allergic reaction to the medication which in turn caused my lip to swell the fuck up and take my face hostage. Insert prescription for steroids, a 2 hour nap and a half a day later and I could finally see my eyes again.
I decided to give the fever blister a nick-name. I called it "thehugefuckingthingthatatemyface". It was more fitting than something like "Sugar Tits".
After having to use a straw for days on end I woke up one morning in my usual sleepy fog, made a cup of coffee, took a drink of that cup of coffee and then yanked the scab of that fever blister right off. As soon as I regained consciousness and cleaned up the blood I looked at the piece of flesh hanging from my Valentine heart coffee mug and I was so sure that half of my lip was missing. I ran to the mirror expecting to see some sort of freakish Freddy Kruger lip only to find that a small gouge was missing. Just a little divot, but that little divot hung on tight and hurt like a mother fucker.
Oh and when your sick, laying around your house and cursing like a sailor, make sure that your 2-year old daughter didn't hijack your cell phone and is having a conversation with your boss.