Never trust a doctor in Flip-Flops....

The family that coughs together.... stays together.
Alternately....
the family that farts together.... stays together. Wisdom from my awesome German MIL right there.

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and Sgt. Dad is home once again. This is both wonderful and .... at times... a bit... well... annoying. I love this man with all my heart... but he can definitely throw a wrench into my little OCD world. For instance... why was the vacuum on the dining room table this morning when I got up? Why are there half a dozen empty coffee cups in various places around the house? Why are my colanders in the cabinet with the pots and pans? Things are not in their respective places in the fridge- the milk is on the condiment shelf, and the cheese is in the door and that just doesn't fly. There is ketchup smeared across the kitchen counter along with coffee rings and spilled sugar. And let's not talk about the toilet seat, or the apparent inability to flush the toilet. I digress. I love this man. He is home and he is safe and my OCD tendencies will adjust to compensate for his return in due time.

Along with his return came the dreaded.... 'E-boli-Avian-Swine-Mung-Flu'. Sounds menacing, right? It should. It has knocked all of us down beginning with #2 Son who missed a whole week of school due to the pink eye that came with it. He shared with all of us, minus the pink eye. Thankfully he kept that to himself. Halfway through last week, #1 and #2 Sons' dad decides they should see the doctor. I may have thought to take them myself had I not been laying in bed lamenting 'I'm dying' to whoever would listen. Regardless of my impending death, I got a phone call from their dad... basically... an appointment has been made.... can you take them? Well, sure! Let me just wrap a hundred coats around me and drag my diseased ass out of bed and hobble on down to the doctor's office. Which by the way... I have no clue where it is because they use his insurance and his doctor. When I asked their step-mom for directions... it went something like... 'you know that road over by that other road in front of the hospital... well you take that other other road....' Ummm... just give me the address, I'll find it.

Our doctor adventure consumed the better part of a day. Why??! Why is it that a doctor's office can appear seemingly empty, and yet you still wait for an hour in the waiting room and then another hour in the examination room? Piss off?! Add to that the mind-numbing amount of paperwork I had to fill out for #2 Son because he'd never been seen there before. Half of which I stared at dumbly because ... I'm not their dad and don't have all the insurance/ employer information. Did I mention, I was also dying? Then the wait in the exam room with both boys dying from the flu, from thirst, from hunger, from boredom, from each other. OMG *Spork*Eye*

Enter Doctor Flip-Flop. WTfreakingF?! It's 40 some degrees outside. The man has a PhD and he walks in wearing freaking flip flops! I'm sorry, did we pull you away from your golf game? I almost vomited right there... on his naked hairy feet. And then the FBI interrogation began. Now, perhaps under different circumstances I would have appreciated a doctor asking a million questions. This was not that time. I did not need to hear about his belief in faith, and his book recommendations, and his church recommendations, and I did not think I should have to explain visitation schedules and my personal religious beliefs. I remained pleasant throughout. I don't know how. I wanted to stomp on his foot. I wanted to sneeze in his face... and his face.... He had this .... 'thing' on his nose. Zit? Mole? Lump? Bump? Growth? I was having a hard time keeping my Austin Powers tendencies in check. I resisted the urge to poke it with a tongue depressor ya'll. It was hard.
It was so freakin hard maintaining a pleasant demeanor and attempting to be an adult. And then came the flu tests... you know the big ole cotton swab up the nose thing. #2 went first. #1 laughed at him when he almost cried. When it was #1's turn, he ended up with a bloody nose. And that, my friends, is called- karma. I did not feel bad. I stuffed tissue up the kid's nose and went on my way. Off to the pharmacy to sit and wait for an hour. Three prescriptions, much whining, and several hours later the ordeal was over.

What did I learn from all of this? I have no freaking clue. I'm not even sure there was a lesson to be learned actually. Mostly it was just a wasted day and the knowledge that I will never personally make a trip to that doctor for myself... ever. I am on the hunt for a new doctor since mine retired, but it won't be this guy. Nope nope. Never trust a doctor in flip-flops.... he'll attempt to convert you to his religious beliefs and hypnotize you with his mole.... Moley moley moley moley MOooooLE!!!!!