Monthly Archives: September 2016

A little bit of a cough…

“I’ve got a little bit of a cough,” I have heard that before. Someone  says, “I’ve got a little bit of a cough,” and then they proceed to sneeze, cough, and drip all over you.

When I was young, I used to think, “It’s a little bit of a cough, I can tough it out.” It never occurred to me that while I was being tough and brave and going to work, that I was also exposing all the people who had to come into contact with my “little bit of a cough,” and would then be infected.

Now, it’s happening to me in the opposite case. “I’ve got a little bit of a cough, but I really want to have a practice.” More than one student told me that this week, and I went ahead and let them practice…and cough…and sneeze…all over! Now, I’ve got the disease and it’s more than a little cough, I can tell you!

I began to get the runny eyes and nose, the scratchy throat and the congestion within hours of ending the practice with ill performers. I have spent my weekend sleeping, coughing, and then sleeping some more. I went out into the beautiful weather once but it was too much for my light-headed brain, so my entire walk was a stride out the door and a U-turn right back inside. So much for enjoying the great outdoors when you have a little bit of a cough.

I sent my husband to his mother’s for the day on the worst day of my symptoms. I figured he would enjoy her company and her cooking and he wouldn’t be in danger of getting my “little bit of a cough” from all the germs I might drip all over the phone, sinks, toilet, etc.

The question now is, how much of a “little cough” should I have before I don’t go to school and disease all over my students? I always agonize over this. As I already said, I used to just tough it through, but I’m not so quick to take my germs to work anymore. So I agonize: how sick is too sick to be exposed to other people?

I’ve seen all the commercials about pills you can take that will make it so that you don’t look like you have a cold or you don’t feel like you have the flu, but I wonder if those are a good idea. Won’t it take longer to recover if you just keep powering through, hyped up on some symptom-covering drugs?

I’m sure I’ll figure it out, but maybe not until the over-the-counter medication wears off. But for now, I’m going to go to bed and hope that tomorrow morning will mean I’m ready to go to work. However, if I wake up and I’ve been dreaming about meeting and falling in love with a deer and going off to live happily together in the woods…I’ll know that I still have some recovery left to do and my “little bit of a cough is not yet done!”

Have a healthy week everyone and I hope I haven’t breathed too many germs on you!

 

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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It’s that time of year again; everybody hide

No, I’m not talking about hunting, or even referring to school days. The time of year I mean is professional football time. That’s right, folks, those millionaire goal-post runners are at it again and that means life at our house becomes much more complicated. I have to somehow figure out how to live with the constant din of football games in my ears for at least three days a week and Roy has to figure out why, when he’s shouting excellent advice at them, the Vikings don’t do a better job for him.

It’s not that I am unfamiliar with the Vikings…my father is also a die-hard Vikings fan; but I found out what real Viking-mania was all about when I got married. Sundays at our house are a screaming good time with the Vikings at the center of the maelstrom.

No one is safe. The dog is personally terrified when the screaming, yelling, jumping out of the chair and agitated pacing begins each week. She has become so traumatized that I think all I’d have to do is show her the color purple and she would immediately slink downstairs with her tale between her legs.

If only the Vikings would cooperate, but they have this terrible tendency to do what they think is right, which many times clashes with Roy wants them to do.

“No, no! Don’t run the ball through that line,” he will scream, holding his head and moaning. “You need to pass, can’t you just pass the ball, for pete’s sake?”

I have learned to make myself scarce during these traumatic Sunday events. There’s always laundry to do or cleaning in some other room to take care of. Unfortunately, I’m all he’s got to vent his game day hysteria on.

“Jackie, you’ve got to see this! You won’t believe it! They’re gonna show it on replay; hurry up or you’ll miss it!”

So, I run in from wherever I was hiding and watch a football play involving some men with a football, running down a field and eventually—falling down.

“Do you believe that?” he will exclaim in the voice of a man whose frustration is vindicated.

There is only one response  in these situations. I put a properly sorrowful expression on my face and shake my head slowly and deliberately to indicate my inability to comprehend such a stupid play. That’s if he looks and sounds angry or disgusted.

Now, if he sounds happy and excited (not usually), then I clap my hands and say, “Wonderful!” in the same voice I would use if my grandson voluntarily used the potty.

The Vikings won on this particular Sunday, so all is sweetness and light at our house. The dog is upstairs, happily hanging out with Roy and I am able to read a book in relative peace, except for the times I must listen to another rave about something the Vikings did right, but “could have done better.” I wear my practiced, “oh that’s serious and you are so right,” expression for this conversation and all is good.

Vikings, if you could manage to get Roy a contact into your games, so he could call the plays and you would do them right, I would be very grateful. I’m not alone in this request, either. I had a friend at work the other day say, “It’s pretty loud and obnoxious at my house when the Vikings are on. It’s really kind of embarrassing when the windows are open.”

I replied tiredly, “I feel your pain. Just shut the windows and keep reminding yourself that you are not alone. Also, touchdowns are good things!”

 

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No room at the inn…

It was a strange bathroom. I groped my way inside the extremely tiny space and found the toilet. I made the mistake of sitting down before I reached over and turned on the light switch. And found a bug….no two bugs…no three bugs on the floor. Of course, the third bug might not count because he was dead.

It doesn’t happen very often because Roy and I are both paranoid about making sure we have good motel rooms when we travel, but occasionally, we get stymied. We decided on the spur of the moment to take a little trip over the weekend. Except, it was Labor Day weekend and we soon discovered that EVERYBODY books rooms over the long Labor Day weekend and we were just a little late. Like Mary and Joseph, we discovered there was no room at the inn…at least, any of the inns we normally frequent.

At last, however, in a small town outside of the immediate area of our destination, we were able to book a room at one of those non-chain, smaller venues. It was alright, though, because when we got to the motel, there was a long line of people also checking in. Must be a great place, right? Except we soon discovered in talking to people in line that we were about the only ones who had made any kind of reservation. The rest of them were traveling impromptu as well and were stopping here as a last resort, hoping for an open room. We were all standing in line praying for a good experience.

The girl at the counter spoke so softly that even those of us not hearing impaired had to hang over the counter to hear her. The fellow working with her made up for that however. He indicated that he was ready for the next customer by pounding on the counter and bellowing, “Next!” We all jumped and flinched like frightened recruits on Army induction day.

It was finally our turn and when we had filled out the necessary paperwork with the soft-spoken girl, the loud drill sergeant reached into a box behind him and handed Roy an unusual, metal-looking object.

“What is that?” I asked Roy as we left the office.

“It’s a key,” he answered, wonder in his voice.

“That didn’t look like a key card to me,” I said skeptically.

“It’s not a key card; it’s an actual KEY,” he said and held it up, glinting in the late afternoon sun. Now, it’s not that I like those key cards; it’s just that they suggest a little bit more up-to-date facilities than the old-fashioned keys. However, beggars quite definitely can’t be choosers.

As we walked down the hall, we passed a table containing a coffee pot and some individually packaged, dry-looking granola bars. I indicated the table with a jerk of my head as I told Roy, “If that’s the continental breakfast, we’re going to need to find a Perkins somewhere instead, tomorrow morning.”  It was and we did.

We unlocked the door of our room with the actual KEY and were cautiously surprised to find a fairly modern looking room before us. Of course, it packed two beds, a night table and a luggage rack in a mighty small space, but by using the sink as a desk for our computer, phone and camera to recharge on, it worked pretty well. I was feeling pretty good about it until I went into the bathroom and encountered the refuge from Raid convention.

“There’s a bug in here,” I called to Roy, “in fact, there’s several.”

“Well, kill them,” he returned, “I’m busy with a couple of wall crawlers out here.” His shoe hit the wall for emphasis and I knew we were one cricket less.

I returned to the main room when I had finished the bug stomping party in the bathroom. “I’d like to sit on these extremely hard beds and watch some television, but I see there isn’t a television.”

“Look up,” he replied and sure enough, there was a nice, not flat-screened television, hanging from a holder on the wall.  “Which of the three stations it gets would you like to watch?”

We made it through the night and we reminded ourselves a number of times that we had been lucky to get the room at this place, or we would have been forced to spend the night in our car, so when we thought about it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. However, the next time this Mary and Joseph go traveling, they are going to be sure they have booked their accommodations far in advance!

 

 

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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