MWAH * kiss kiss

So I've had these swollen glands for a while and I've been putting off getting them checked out because it's been crazy busy at work. Today was a whole new ballgame. I woke up and it felt like every airway was grated with a cheese grater, sprinkled with lime juice then buffered out with sandpaper. As a child I read Roald Dahl's biography, Boy and he graphically describes his adenoids getting carved out of his throat while awake. I was pretty sure that one of my flatmates, angry with me for soaking lids in the sink for days, snuck into my room and acted out Roald's scarring experience.

I, being a teacher of epic proportion, still tried to go to work and was halfway ready when I decided on a whim to look at my throat in the mirror with a flashlight. Not.a.pretty.picture. You know it's bad when you send a picture to your Mum (a Hungarian mum at that, which no doubt has seen worse of everything in the world and just got on with it) and she tells you she had to delete it off her phone immediately. I knew right away that I had to call in sick and get a doctor.

The doctor instantly thought it was mono. I was misinformed by some uneducated fools (flatmates) that mono did not exist in this country. So when I mentioned that to the doctor, he gave a Dr. Hibbert laugh and replied "Oh we have it, and you've got it." To confirm the smooching sickness, I had to go for a blood test at the hospital. I had to take a number and wait in a room where I was the youngest there by about 100 years.

Sitting surrounded by older people really makes you never want to get old. Especially when all you seem to do at that age is wait around for them to call your number in blood clinics.

The wait was unreal. It's funny when you think how close the numbers 566 and 546 are to each other until you put them in the context of waiting for your blood to be taken. 20 places is a huge amount of time for you to mull over the fact a sharp object will be thrust into one of your most sensitive areas until your blood squirts out.

Also, in this day in age what is there to do while waiting if you have no internet signal? Hospitals are black holes for the 21st century and I was not prepared today. I had absolutely nothing to do whilst waiting. I actually wrote notes on my phone about the people around me in hopes of getting a blog post out of it. It turned out, the jottings were too much like the Mean Girls Burn Book and I was afraid the 87 year old man next to me would read what I wrote about his decrepit wife on the screen. Looking back, I shouldn't have worried at all as I wasn't writing in font size 120 so I'm sure he wouldn't have been able to read it.

Finally my number was called and luckily I got a charming Murse who gently took my blood. I've never had gentler hands on the inside of the fleshy part of my arm.

I must wait now to make sure it is "just" mono and not some other crazy disease that is destroying the slender nature of my neck. My swan neck is the one Hungarian trait I didn't get thank god (thick necks...strong like bull). Until then I'm smashing episodes of Seinfeld and planning lessons from home whilst sucking on ice lollies. I must say, this youthful disease is bringing me back to university times, when I was allowed to sack off school for a month and just laze about in bed. I'm glad I'm not too old to still be crippled by the smooching sickness. I bet soon enough I'll have chickenpox again as well. Maybe I'll never have to work again! Huzzah!

Anyway, back to bed. As I'm writing this my eyes are already getting heavy and I'm beginning to lose control of my figrs tyig on th kebord. nalkdsjdnf zzzzzz....