I’ve now had the cold-from-heck, also known as the newsroom plague, for six days. With the bug firmly embedded in my throat, I drove to my doctor’s office.
“Do you have an appointment?” a slightly irritated receptionist says to me.
“No.“ I squeak while shaking my head and pointing at my throat.
Receptionist says, “Well, you should call first and ask when — “
Me: <shaking my head furiously now with a pretend phone in my hand> “Voice. NO. Phone TALK? Can’t!”
”I’ll see who’s available,” says the receptionist.
Me: (Embracing my inner New Yorker and not moving — as if to say, take all the time you want, sweetie) “Cough, COUGH!” (I ain‘t going anywhere.)
“Room one!” She says abruptly, pointing down the hall.
In walks the doctor. Actually, it’s my doctor’s husband. They have a two-doctor practice and it’s the first time I’ve seen him.
Him: “So. What’s going on?”
Me: “Can’t talk. Talk for living. This BAD.” I squeak.
Him: “Oh, you talk for a living? What do you do?”
“Radio Anchor. CBS News,” I say.
I swear to God the man started laughing before he realized I was serious.
Later, I left with antibiotics, all the regular advice (plenty of rest, fluids… etc.) and the hope that my voice will come back before I have to return to the doctor’s office. I don’t think that receptionist likes me. At all.
This has been an actual (squeaky) conversation in the Man Cave. What’s the Man Cave? Read this.
NOTE: How can you stay healthy in a newsroom and world full of germs? Check out my LinkedIn post “Journalism: Pro Tip #7 Germ Defense.”
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- The Man Cave health tracker
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