I have pneumonia.

Please pardon my mood. I went to the doctor yesterday, something you’ll rarely hear ever coming out of my mouth, only to be told I have pneumonia. Fantastic. I’m really terrible at being sick. Like the sound of running water hurts my ears. And clothes hurt my skin. And light hurts my eyes. You can bet I’ll be milking this pneumonia for all it’s worth. So although, yes Mom – I’m grateful for my healing, I’m also still super irritated.

I’m irritated with the kid screaming bloody murder at the pool. Irritated with his mother who has so effortlessly tuned out his cries. And I’ll be irritated with you if you try and tell me that just because I have pneumonia I’m not allowed to read about Kim Kardashian’s wedding poolside. And yes, I’m irritated with her too. I’m irritated with the man in front of me at Coffee Bean who doesn’t know what an americano is. With the nanny ordering large mocha ice blendeds for the toddlers she’s watching. But most of all, I’m irritated with Kaiser, and my experience yesterday.

So I’ll say this. This is a hospital. You know how I’m doing. Please don’t ask. If I was fine I wouldn’t be here. If you give me an appointment time, ask me to check in 15 minutes prior, I arrive 10 minutes prior to that in an attempt to be seen earlier, and you still keep me waiting 40 minutes past my original appointment time, I’m going to contemplate fainting in the lobby. But if I wait patiently, as I did, and you put me in a room with blinding yellow lights for another 20 minutes before seeing a doctor, I will look through all the labeled cabinets before I decide to nap on the hospital bed. If you are sitting at the reception desk in the x-ray lab, I’m going to assume it is your job to receive me. Next time, it’d be easier if you simply told me where to go, instead of pointing to the ticket machine, having me take a number, sit down, and then immediately call my number only to tell me to check in down the hall. And lastly, while I enjoyed reliving Michael Jackson’s life through pictures, if your most current People Magazine is dated July 2009, you’ll have some seriously out of touch and misinformed people leaving your pharmacy. Never mind, I really liked the MJ tribute. It was ironically his birthday after all. And it might have been Kaiser’s saving grace. That, or the nurse who said no when I asked if I had to be weighed. Or my hot, unmarried doctor, who, when I told him I thought I was dying, said he hoped I’d pull through because he kinda liked having me around. Totally into me, right? Shut up. Whatever. Actually scratch that. He already knows way too much about me.

Okay. So. Sorry for the rant. I’m blaming it on the fever. Or the bacteria building up in my lungs. Or the fact I couldn't keep my chest x-rays to scan and show you. Any and all will do.