While Ava is incubating…

In the continuing saga of Ava being sick, I’d like to share with you all the following text exchange. 

Here’s the setup.  I took her to the Minute Clinic late last week where she was diagnosed with “ick” and given a whole bunch of prescription meds.  She faithfully took her Z-pack and her various cough meds like a good girl.  Unfortunately, she’s still sounds terrible.  In fact, it’s gotten to the point where she’s coughing so much, so powerfully, and so often that the pain in her ribs and back brings tears to her eyes.  I cringe when I hear her.

So we tagged teamed her and we managed to get her to go, all by herself, to her primary care physician.  This is a doctor she’s probably seen twice in the last seven years.  Suffice it to say, she doesn’t like to go to the doctor.  Some crap about showing signs of weakness.  That and she’s a germaphobe.  She’s just positive she’s going to contract something worse at the doctor’s.

Ava: OMG, this place is overflowing with people.  I’m sure to get Legionnaires here from one of them.  I can’t believe you let me come over here.

Me: Hold your breath and touch nothing.  DO NOT LEAVE

Ava: The lady at the desk just asked the latest addition to our boat of illness if she felt nauseous.  Now I’m nauseous.  Jesus Christ I can’t believe you let me come here.

Ava: come get me.  Please!

Me: You’re fine.  Settle down.  Think of the cute get well cards I can send to the hospital.

Ava: have you seen an electric walker?  What the hell is that about?  Regardless, we’re getting one.

Me: It’s called a scooter.  I’ll have mine in pink with tassels

Ava: Nope, it was a walker.  Electric but why?

Ava: The nauseous one is now complaining it’s hot in here.  It’s not hot, it’s her.  She’s likely dying.  Someone  needs to tell her the hot is because she’s dying and going to hell.

Ava: There’s a teen boy here picking his nose.  I wish I knew how to use my camera.

Me: We don’t want to see that, but thank you anyway.

Ava: There’s a sign that says no cell phones.  I hope I get thrown out.

Me: I already called the lady at the desk & told her not to let you leave.

Ava: She’s already annoyed with me because I wiped the pen with sanitizer.  She thinks I’m crazy.

Me: You are crazy.  We embrace the crazy at the Quill Sisters.

Ava: It’s not crazy to try to save yourself from horrible disease.  Everyone here is SICK.  Really SICK.  I knew I shouldn’t have come here.

Me: Stop panicking. You are not immune deficient.  You’ll come out of there fine with a fist full of new prescriptions.

Ava: If they don’t take me in the next 5 minutes I’m leaving.  I’m afraid

Ava: OMG ANOTHER sicky just showed up.  There’s not enough room for all of us.

Me: Deep sigh.  Don’t make me drive over there.

Ava: the nauseous woman is now sniveling.  I hope she’s next.  In fact, she can take my turn because I can’t stay here much longer.

Ava: NOW

Me: I’m rolling my eyes.

Ava: The nauseous woman’s name is Ava.  I hate it here.

Me: It’s like a weird alternate universe of sick Avas.

Ava: This is taking too long and I feel better just having been here and I’m going to go.

Me: shut up.

An hour and a half later….

Ava: Now I’m getting an x ray.

Me: Oh my goodness

Ava: Yep.

Me: Yikes what does the DR think?

An hour later…

Ava: X rays are done.  I’ll find out in the morning.  I have a scrip for steroids which is really supposed to help.  We’ll see.  I was made to swear I would stay home tomorrow which was a negotiation from staying home Thursday and Friday.

Me: We’ll all be fine tomorrow.  You really should stay home.

Ava: I’m going to because I want to get well and for the pain to go away.  Frankly, I expect Legionnaires to develop by mid day tomorrow.  An old man was there and he looked like a convention goer.

Me: I don’t get it.

Ava: That I contracted some horrifying disease.  Trying to get rid of the disease I already have?  What don’t you get?  I blame you.

Me: I’ll find funny get well cards.

Ava: You’ll need to find funny sympathy cards for Ed.

And that, my friends, is a typical text conversation with me and Ava.  In fact, that is what a lot of our actual conversations sound like, too.