A Plague on the House of Spreer

A plague has descended upon our home. It's ugly.

It's gross.

It involves horrific sounds coming from the bathroom at least 20 times a day.

Paint a pretty picture for you? Sorry for sharing.

Anyways, Aaron came down with what we thought was food poisoning on Saturday. We'd had some chicken the night before that we thought might have accidentally cross contaminated with our salad. My symptoms were very mild to non-existent so I just ignored them. Aaron wasn't so lucky.

He slept most of Sunday and rarely left the porcelain throne when we wasn't sleeping. When he woke up with the same symptoms this morning (Monday), we decided we better get him to a doctor.

We walked over to our military medical aid station bright and early at 7:30 am. As soon as we walked in, we were informed that there were no doctors there. Nor would they be available to see him all week. The only person that was there could not see patients. Our only option was to travel all the way downtown to the hospital and visit the Emergency room. This is the second time this has happened to us. It is also yet another lovely reason why I love the military.

Because I was very afraid of Aaron being severely dehydrated, I made him go. Actually, he wasn't too difficult to convince. He felt just plain awful.

So we went.

Now, do you remember what I told you about Singapore and their concerns over H1N1? In case you don't, the posts are here and here.

Imagine going to a hospital with all of the doors either locked or guarded by men in masks with infrared thermometers. Now, also imagine going to that hospital with a husband who is running a fever and has symptoms of a flu.

Sound fun, right?

Yeah, no.

We were stopped outside and were asked to fill out paperwork. Then we were both taken into a side room and both had our temperatures taken. Then they asked Aaron about the symptoms he was experiencing. With each answer, the look of fear in their eyes grew. I'm not even kidding. When they finished the interrogation, they slapped this on his face. Ok. Maybe not slapped, but they made him put it on.

Finally, they said we could see a doctor. A guy escorted us to the ER entrance and unlocked the doors and allowed us to enter. I told you they were hardcore.

To wrap this up, Aaron finally saw a doctor. He does not have H1N1. He just has a rather nasty case of a stomach virus. They sent him home with four different kinds of medication.

He's already feeling a little better.

But now, I'm not feeling so hot. I think karma is teaching me a lesson for laughing at Aaron in his surgical mask.

I just cannot resist laughing at the mask.