Huckleberries and the Women Who Love Them

Today did not go as planned.

See, the plan was that Katie and I would drive to the coast, take some photographs, have a picnic on the beach and maybe even a bonfire. It was to be a totally awesome Valentine's day girl date.

Here is what actually happened:

I woke up feeling like death warmed over and then dropped back in ice-water. I was in pain, head-achey, cold, and generally miserable. This being a continuation of the prior day's scenario, I decided it might be best to go to a doc-in-the-box.

Couldn't get in until 2:30, but that was okay- Katie and I went out to the Spaghetti Factory, where I picked at some broccoli (she insisted I needed to get more in my system than just toast, which is what I'd been eating the day before) and felt like the worst friend in the world. Afterward we drove down to Portland (the site of the closest clinic that a) would take my insurance and b) was open on a Sunday) and browsed some vintage shops until it was time for my appointment (Katie got a super-cute full-length coat. I might have been jealous if I hadn't been so wretched).

The doctor diagnosed me with "We don't know what the hell it is", which was not exactly comforting. He figures I actually do have something (as opposed to it being allergies) because I'm running a low-grade fever. The quick-strep test came back negative, so he did a full culture but of course we won't get those results for a few more days. In the mean time, he told me I could take some penicillin if I wanted to, just in case. I did (I would have preferred a shot, but they didn't do those there). And so they sent me on my merrily-undiagnosed way.

We came back to Vancouver and curled up to watch Tombstone, which had some wonderful dialog and a fairly stupid "romantic" element. I enjoyed it nonetheless, and I now understand what Nathan is referencing when he says "I'm your huckleberry," which is nice. And he is my huckleberry, so that's even nicer (he spent his day in a similar fashion to mine, only he got shots, the lucky so-and-so).

Anyway, now Katie is re-dying her hair, and I'm whipping this out and sipping on hot chicken noodle soup. The pain in my throat has progressed to the point where swallowing is a chore and speaking is just about unthinkable. Here's hoping tomorrow will dawn a pain-free day.