It's refreshing how one's work family can be so solicitous of one's health after one has been absent for a day. Even though one had informed them of the upcoming absence with the explanation of personal business that needed tending.
Today before I could even get out a sentence, a concerned young lass inquired, "Can you even talk?"
Um. Yes. I can talk. If I have a chance to spit out words before being asked if I can talk. Perhaps the recent atmospheric conditions cause me to engage in excessive throat-clearage. I can. And do. Still talk.
Four hours later, another one turned her head around like an owl, fixed her gaze on me, and asked, "Did you just sneeze?"
Um. No. I just cleared my throat. "When the air conditioner kicks on, it kicks up something in the air, and I have to clear my throat." I really don't know why she asked. Nobody ever says, "God bless you," to ME. Oh, they will say it to any other student in the room, the weed-whacker outside the window, the Pepsi delivery man wheeling in crates of diet soda, and quite probably various and sundry intruders, should any come our way. But not to me.
After school, a colleague knocked on the faculty women's restroom door. I don't know why she can't just yank the handle angrily like everyone else. When I came out, she said, "Sorry. I haven't felt well all day." Good thing I beat her in there.
"I haven't, either. My back has been messed up. I can't get a good deep breath."
"Oh, you sound all clogged."
Remind me never to ask her for a diagnosis.