For those of you who thought I should see the doctor, I saw the doctor. I rationalized it this way: I wanted to see if my chest was clear, but since I never got into medical school I really had no reason to buy that nice Littman Master Cardiology stethoscope and so I couldn’t listen to my lungs myself, and in any case nobody was going to listen to my batty self-diagnosis with any sense of belief. So I had to have Mr. Dr. Physician do it for me, and while he was at it I was going to have him prescribe me some hay fever medication as well.

My nerdy doctor (one of my peeps) said the cold going around this year seems to present the way I had it: starts with head congestion, ends up in the chest. He thought he heard diminished breath sounds on the right side, so he took an X-ray, which was clear. I came back to the office after my x-ray and had to sit in the room with the sigmoidoscope (THE THING THEY USE TO LOOK UP YOUR POOPER) and I really didn’t want to touch anything in there, not even the chair. He gave me a clean-ish bill of health and gave me some ‘scrips for Flonase and Allegra (hay fever meds) and sent me on my way.

The best part is that I saw the woman I used to have a crush on when I first started at the gym. The one with the big nose. She was walking around the park. Wait, I think that was yesterday, since today it was miserable and wet and nobody was walking around the park. OK, the best part is that the doctor’s Medical Assistant was kind of flirty. That always makes doctor visits more fun.

Just in case you didn’t get your fill of VH-1 (whatever happened to pop-up video?), yesterday I saw that the woman who “Sister Christian” was written about is an office manager in Portland! I might actually KNOW her! A possible brush with fame! I’d rather meet Steve Perry, or John Oates, but you takes what you gets.