Still Alive

Hey, all. Apologies for my complete absence lately. It's been a busy month or so... Ann, Molly and I are all fine, but it feels like we've been playing catch-up for a while. I won't bore anyone with details, but the most recent time-suck came in the form of acute bronchitis on my part. I don't recommend it -- it wasn't so bad the first day or so when I was just coughing and breathing a little heavier, but when it got to the point where I couldn't climb a flight of stairs without getting winded and sleeping became nearly impossible because I just couldn't draw enough air into my lungs lying down, I probably should've taken a hint and hauled ass to the hospital. Thankfully, CVS' minute clinic took one look at me and sent me there anyway, so now I'm back on the mend and once again able to oxygenate my red blood cells. The only really interesting part of it that's worth talking about came when I was examined in triage at the ER. The examining nurse or doctor asked if I'd been running a fever, and when I replied that I didn't know, he -- and this is key -- grabbed what looked like an electronic wand and ran it over my forehead. Just one swipe, it beeped, he looked at it and said, "99 degrees" and went about his checkup.

Now, possibly I'm just a poor ignorant bumpkin unaccustomed to you all's fancy sci-ehn-tific ways, but holy balls, why didn't someone tell me we were officially living in the future? Seriously, what kind of crazy Star Trek crap is that? The man read my forehead like it was a bar code and he was checking the price of a can of tuna. It was simultaneously awesome and frustrating, because if we have that technology, why the hell am I still sticking a thermometer under my tongue at home like a pathetic savage? To say nothing of, not to get too graphic, the fact that you can't take an infant's temperature orally, necessitating a different type of thermometer that strikes me as unbelievably inferior to this apparent receptacle of black magic. If I'd known I could have treated my baby's head like a Scantron to find out if she was feverish, well, let's just say that's the kind of thing I'd be willing to shell out an extra few bucks for.

So there you have it: the future is now, acute bronchitis sucks, and I promise not to let a month and a half lapse between posts again. Because really, even if I told you classes were just kicking my butt and I was doing homework every night, you'd know I was lying. The umpteenth unnecessary Crow sequel isn't going to review itself, y'know.