Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Reports Of My Illness Have Been Greatly Exaggerated. And Not By Me.

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.


Sioux said...

No one ever says "Bless you" to me either.

I wonder if that's because our colleagues know we're way past the point of no return...nothing in THAT direction will ever be able to help us?

Sioux said...

Mark Twain? He's an always welcomed reference.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

So .... I am assuming she thinks your back is clogged up. Interesting.

Hillbilly Mom said...

That is a definite possibility. The Chem II class held demonstrations today, and our hallway smelled of brimstone. I'm surprised I was not accused as the source.

Yes, good ol' Sam Clemens. I threw in Aunt Polly's cat Peter a while back, here or there.

I hope she does not plan to become a doctor or nurse practitioner. Or even a psychologist, because she does not appear to listen very closely.