*wordpress and formatting don’t seem to get along in a predictable way. there are supposed to be more paragraphs, please insert them in your mind where you see fit. then send hatemail – not to me, to wordpress*

I’m sick. Thankfully I’m less sick today than yesterday, unfortunately less-sick doesn’t make me not-sick, which means I’m still sick, and that sucks. The ailment- strep throat, which is nasty, nasty business.  By the time I realised my sore throat was more than just a sore throat, it was yesterday morning and I had a 103 degree temperature, and great, white ulcers on the back of my throat. Google it, find the most disgusting picture you can, and that pretty much sums ups my mouth. Delicious.

I’m lucky because my doctor is part of a Family Health Team, which means I’m part of  the same team, which means there are lots of evening and weekend hours to accomodate people who are foolish enough to take ill outside of regular business hours. Being that I inadvertently lost my head and got sick on a Sunday, I simply looked up my Doc’s website to enquire as to the location of this weekend’s hours. None. Lots (or extended, as the website puts it) of evening/weekend hours doesn’t me all evening/weekend hours, and it appeared the first-rate doctors in my top-notch Family Health Team had taken the weekend off. Perfect.

No problem, I’ve had strep once before, I just need some antibiotics and some courage to get through the pain (guess what, doctors won’t prescribe painkillers for this, which is mean, mean, mean), and I’d be fine. I dug deep, checked the hours of some local walk-in clinics, and immediately started to cry: it’s Sunday, and basically every clinic in the city of Toronto is closed on a Sunday. That’s a lie, there’s about two open, which means they will be so completely over-burdened I’d probably fare better in an emergency room. With a day-and-a-half of saliva unswallowed, broken glass in my throat and a fever that made me both boiling hot and freezing cold at the same time, I did the only thing I could think of  – I phoned my friend Judy. Judy knows stuff and she knows how to get stuff done. Judy’s good people. And just as I expected Judy saved the day. *applause* Judy directed me to MedVist, a 24 hour-a-day/7 days-a-week service where the DOCTOR COMES TO YOUR HOUSE. I’d heard of this before in passing but never thought it applied to me. Nothing ever applies to me – you should see my taxes. Yet this service does not discriminate: It didn’t matter that it was 9 am, or entirely and completely a Sunday. It didn’t matter that I did have the option of going to one of the almost none-open clinics, with someone at home to look after the littles. It didn’t matter that we have a car and could have driven to the outer reaches of anywhere to find care. The only thing that mattered was that I needed a doctor and had a valid Ontario Health Card. Not only did I get to lounge on my couch and look absolutely wretched in the privacy of my own home, I also got to spend exactly zero dollars for the privilege. About 1.5 hours (entirely less time than I would have spent in an open-on-Sunday walk-in clinic)  after Marc called for a doctor “stat”, a bright, lively, large man rolled up to our house in pursuit of the child sick with strep throat. He was surprised to learn that it was my throat in need, and proceeded to explain to me that this is usually a childhood affliction. I was pretty much whofuckingccareswhatitususallyisgivemymygoddamnprescription, but since he hadn’t finished examining me, I listened patiently. About ten minutes later Marc took the precious slip of paper (left by the bright, lively Doc) to the pharmacy down the street, and I got to spend the rest of the day in bed.
 
My condition yesterday did not really improve. When my fever peaked at almost 105 degrees I was pretty much not good and Marc looked rather pale himself. Thankfully the fever came down nicely with a little help from a lot of ibuprofen, and when I could eventually sleep I almost got a few hours last night. Today is considerably better. I’m still mucho tired, but the super-crazy-pain isn’t quite as super-crazy, and the kids have been pawned off on people better equipped to deal with their whining. If I wasn’t sick it would be like a vacation.
 
For the rest of the day I plan to drink tea, watch daytime television and sleep. If things really improve I might even knit a bit, but don’t tell anyone – I’m supposed to be sick.
 
How was the crème brûlée? I’m so glad you asked. I was little heavy-handed on the flaming, but it was pretty divine.
 

um, i think i used the kind of sugar that burns too fast

Despite the slightly scorched nature of the crème brûlée tops, this is what those ramekins looked like 5.2 seconds later:

sweet, custardy goodness, 2010

I need a nap.
 
 
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