So Sick it Sucked

**Just to note before getting to the subject I intend to write about: I feel fine now, and I'm pretty sure that I'm completely well. This took place on Wednesday, and since sometime Thursday night I haven't run a fever.**

This is my public service announcement to all you out there. If you are on day 7 of a fever, do not call your significant other to tell him that you've just upchucked your guts and then get into a 30 minute shower. While hanging the cell phone just outside the shower may seem like a smart solution to the potential call back situation, you still will not hear it ring. In fact it is possible that when you do finally switch off the shower you will realize that the phone is ringing, there are 3 messages, 11 missed calls, and that the dog is barking because someone is knocking at your front door.

I answered the phone to tell Jeff that I was okay while grabbing a towel to hide my nekidness. He informed me that he had called 911 and that we should probably call them to tell them not to send an ambulance (too late on that one). Still he hung up to call them while I sent the Mutt to the backyard and hollered to the front door that I was coming.

I was surprised how easy it was to answer the door dropping wet in nothing but a towel. The female EMT seemed more shocked than I was, but both of them were really nice about the mix up. They even told me that they had heard that my fiance was on his way over and that I should make sure to call him and tell him that I was alright. I assured them that I was fine, well I was sick, but that I wasn't in need of any emergency medical attention. They headed off and I let Muttly back inside and rushed to the bathroom for a little more barfing.

I talked to Jeff again, and convinced him that I was really really okay, even if he did hear me barfing while on the phone this time. (poor guy) Sick people should never be forced to sprint through the house even under the best circumstances. I laid down on the bed to relax a bit, and think about the humor of the situation. It really was kind of funny now that no one thought I was lying unconscious having seizures or worse. Of course, that's when the next knocks on the door came. I tossed Muttly out back again, and still in a towel, answered the door to 2 police officers... Well at least this time I didn't run, and I didn't get sick.

I decided that maybe I ought to put on a robe. I mean, after 4 complete strangers see you mostly nekid it might be a little late. (The cat's kind of out of the bag at that point, you know?) Still, I was worried that perhaps the fire department would be next, so I went ahead and put on a robe before I laid back down on the bed.

I was glad to have a robe on when the next door knock came, because Jeff had called our landlord and asked him to check in on me (when he still thought I was dying) and hadn't thought to call him to tell him not to, or to call me and warn me he was coming. Of course, I suppose Jeff had no reason to expect that I'd be opening the front door in a towel either.