The Croup.

Thought I would surprise everyone and post a quick one before the long weekend. 

I saw my CF this week.  It had been far too long.  She makes me laugh.  I would like to put in writing that I love her bangs.  XO, if you're reading this cousin friend.  We talked about her self diagnosis of hypertension and Meggie's wedding. She asked if the BZ would mind if she showed up at midnight wearing a Scream mask.  Fingers crossed she does.  Then we gushed about her nephew and my kids.  Bartenders must think we're crazy.  We guzzle wine and talk about toddlers.  That sentence was super creep to type, but it's the truth.  They're all just so cute.  We're a lucky family.

I finally ran on my quad.  I didn't fall or pass out.  I didn't exactly full out sprint either.  Baby steps.  My personal trainer made me stretch a ton prior to running.  I think it helped.  Who knew.

Last night I checked in with Phyllis.  When she picked up the phone, she screamed, "HI HONEY BUNCH! HOW ARE YOU?"  I told her I was good.  Then she threw a curve ball.  She said, "HOW'S JP? ARE YOU STILL TOGETHER?"  Apparently, they are now "boys" and she can call him by his more common nickname.  I think she really likes him as she keeps making sure that we have not broken up.  "WHAT DID HE THINK OF ME?" she asked.  I told her he thought she was a great, funny person.  "OOH, THAT'S NICE." she replied.  I said, "How could anyone not think that?"  She laughed.  I miss her.  I know that later on I am going to be told that this blog is all about him and it should be titled, "JP and Phyllis are my heroes."  Be careful what you wish for, budday.

After my last post, my sister suggested I write about my bouts with the croup as a child.  I am glad she found such humor in the torture I went through on an annual basis.  My family would leave me at home while they went and picked out the Christmas tree.  Or, take Meaghan to visit Santa Claus and just have her tell him what I wanted.  Anyway.  I was a 9 pound baby. Rumor has it, heavier babies are afflicted with the croup more as children.  Maybe Kath just told me that because she's still pissed she had to carry such a load for nine months.  Should have laid off the manicotti, Ma.  I remember having high fevers, a closed throat and not being able to breathe.  When I couldn't breathe, I would bang on the couch to get someone's attention to inform them that I was in fact dying.  A few times Ma and Pa Lang had to take me to the emergency room.  One specific time is a favorite of theirs.  Meaghan was there, too.  I was maybe 4 and the doctor asked if he could take my temperature.  When he told me where he planned to take my temperature, I did not like his idea.  I sat there with my arms crossed and refused to budge.  My eyes were slits and I just glared at him.  You know, I am not sure of the outcome of that thermometer.  I think they ended up taking it in my ear and not the rear. Well. This is an edit to this post.  After my sista read it, I received an email from her shortly after:


"Looks like your memory needs some refreshing...You REFUSED to open your mouth to have your temperature taken. REFUSED. And those slit eyes were there.. soooo...because you REFUSED, they turned you over-and well--there is the 'rest of the story!"

So.  I repressed some memories.  I finally stopped getting croup in my teens.  I actually looked forward to it because I was home from school for at least one week.  My mom fed me ice cream and milkshakes. I could watch The Nutcracker Prince all day long on Paperview due to my brother's sweet, sweet job at Continental Cablevision.  And, everyone had to be nice to me. 

I hope I get croup this year.

Like I said, this was a quick one.  Enjoy Columbus Day, bitches. And for all you Canadians, Happy Thanksgiving.