Sick

I hate being sick.

They always say that doctors make the worst patients. Well, apparently, I missed my calling because I hate feeling under the weather. I despise it.

And, when I don't feel well, I am even more miserable to be around than normal...and that's saying something.

Earlier this week, I had to got to a sleep-study to see if I have sleep apnea. The video that they show you to explain what's going to happen, which features a bald guy with glasses. The only other patient at this place was another guy that was bald, with glasses. I have no idea why my bald, bespectacled brethren are the poster children for sleep issues, but apparently we are.

Here's the thing about a sleep-study...you don't sleep. They hook you up to various electrodes that measure this and that. Then they go into another room to make sure that the camera and intercom works so that they can watch you all night. Then they tell you to relax and go to sleep.

Sure.

You're alone in a room with a TV and a Sleepmatic bed, and a stranger watching you in another room. As I flipped through the channels on the TV, I noticed that it got the Playboy channel. Apparently there's a fertility clinic in another part of the building. Then I remembered the stupid camera and intercom. So, instead I watched the Bill Murray classic, "Meatballs" and "Mythbusters" until they told me that I needed to try to sleep.

Oh, I laid there. I tried to roll over, entangling myself in the wires. Finally, I semi-rolled onto my shoulder and stayed there. Time past slowly. When I drifted off a little bit, the person buzzed in to tell me to try to lay on my back. So, I did. And then I laid there some more. And, then I had to go to the bathroom. The more I tried to not think about having to go to the bathroom, the more that I had to. Finally, I had to figure out how to do that.

Here's the thing, the intercom can buzz in to you, but they don't really tell you how to signal them. I tried to just say, "I have to go to the bathroom" in a normal voice. Nothing happened. I tried it a little louder. Nothing.

I started trying to find some paper to write a note to hold up to the camera when the intercom buzzed and the voice on the other end said, "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

After that, I started the whole process again until finally I heard them waking up the other patient. Then they came for me. I don't know how much I actually slept, but it didn't feel like much at all.

With glue and adhesive from the electrodes still all over me, I went to my office. I finally left early to go try to get some sleep and when I woke up, I had a 102-degree fever.

For the rest of the week, I've been miserable and I've had to restrain myself from inflicting that misery on too many others. My staff seemed annoyed that I didn't want to talk to them, but in reality, when I'm sick I normally have to hold my tongue to keep from screaming at anyone and everyone. As it was, I came dangerously close to telling one of the owners of the company that work for to go do something unseemly with his laptop computer.

I'm not any better at home. I don't like people touching me when I'm sick...which is an issue with two kids around. The more I don't want them to touch me, the more they want to...in part, because they figure if they get sick they can hang out an watch TV. Funny that I never get to do that.

Instead, I just end up in some sort of sickness purgatory...forcing myself to do whatever I can, while not really accomplishing anything.

At the end of the workweek, I finally had occasion to talk to my boss on the phone. I sounded like Froggy from "The Little Rascals," which was actually a step-up. For the past two days, I've sounded like Harvey Fierstein. He helpfully pointed out that I sounded horrible. Thankfully, it would've hurt my throat too much to unleash a torrent of obscenities.

Worse than my voice, I'm coughing...which is pretty much the most obnoxious symptom there is. Vomitting and diarhea can at least be done in private. There's no way to get around people knowing that you're coughing and there's no way for others to hide their distasteful looks that you're spreading germs. You can do the Dracula cover -- coughing into the crook of your arm -- all you want...it doesn't make any difference. Lepers are treated more sympathetically than someone with cough.

I'd love to think that I'm going to get to rest over the weekend, but I don't really have those things. I just have different jobs that I do on the weekend, with different people that I have to try not to yell at.

Meanwhile, I'm sucking down so many vitamins that GNC should be offering me a stock option. Anytime now, all that immunity boosting better start paying off soon, or there's going to be a whole lot of yelling going on up in here.

As soon as I can actually talk, that is.