anyone who knows me well knows that i would make a terrible doctor. i dont do well with physical discomfort of any kind, let alone bodily fluids like mucus and vomit, to name a few. so, anyone who knows me would find it humorous that i've been forced into the role of doctor in my house this week. shannon has strep throat. the boys might have it too (i'm waiting on a call back from the pediatrician). so, needless to say, i've been doing a lot of nurse-related activity the last couple of days, which is not my forte. all of that to say: please pray for my family because it is unlikely in the entire history of sickness that any family has had a less capable nurse attending to them.
for example, i find it difficult to get someone (my wife) a few ibuprofin without wondering aloud (and with so little amount of agitation) what is the difference between aspirin and ibuprofin and acetaminophen. "why does it have to be so confusing?" i shout to the pharmaceutical gods, shaking my clenched fists clutching those little brown nuggets of pain relief. and another thing: how does the little pill know where the damage is? i mean, if i have a broken toe, i take an ibuprofin. if i have a headache, i take an ibuprofin. how does it know where to go? the whole thing amazes and confounds me in a way that makes me a bit dizzy, requiring me to sit down for a bit. this leads to conversations like, "greg, can you please get me something to drink."
to which i reply, "yeah, just give me a few minutes, i'm not feeling so well. i got all lightheaded trying to think about how the medicine works."
"are you serious? just get me some gatorade!"
"in a minute, hon. they're in the tenth end in the women's curling match and the hot canadian is about to throw the rock. maybe jack will share with you, i think he's got some left."
and so forth. so, please, pray for my family.
i jest. sort of.