Jan. 4, 2012: Happy New Year! I hope you all had an enjoyable holiday season and are off to a good start in the New Year! (Ok I had to go back and change 2011 to 2012!)
My Seasonal Ham Chick career came to a screeching halt on Dec. 25 when I succumbed to my worst cold, or at least cough ever!! I missed the entire last week of holiday ham slinging (and very much-needed income)! When you haven’t had a really, REALLY horrendous cold in a while you forget how absolutely miserable they are! And how a bad cough seems to have a life of its own, completely possessing your body and erupting out of you unexpectedly in viscous lung/body wracking fits, often in the middle of the night to the point where you think you might never breathe normally again! I coughed so hard at times I threw up, also, and this might be too much information, in an equally violent manner – so much so I was worried I might choke! Each coughing fit was followed by extensive nose blowing, and it didn’t take long for my apartment to look like the inside of a Kleenex factory explosion!
Honestly I wasn’t totally surprised by this event. At work, I was in a perpetual state of chilliness the days leading up to Christmas, spending long hours in the Ham Land cooler searching for just the right size of ham, with the most appealing amount of marbling, shankiness or buttiness, etc., etc. I seriously get a chill just writing about it! Brrr.
Such a nasty cough does not bode well with asthma, which necessitated a trip to the ER for some nebulizer treatments and a prescription of industrial strength cough syrup. ER visits always involve endless amounts of waiting, so I was fortunate to have a tall tale-telling patient in the curtained room next to me. This verbose guy would yack it up, in a southern accent I couldn’t quite place, with anyone with a willing pair of ears. It turns out the guy had 17 kids, including two pairs of triplets and a pair of twins, and he had parents that were both well over six feet tall, yet he and all his kids were rather short in stature (why that last bit was important to share I’m not sure, and this is if you even really believed this guy’s stories!) It turns out Mr. Tall Tale Teller had taken an unfortunate slip on the ice earlier that morning (yes Denver CO is probably the only spot in the nation that had snow and a white Christmas!) and thinks he might have snapped a bone in an arm that he previously hideously injured in a car wreck some years back, which necessitated surgery and numerous plate and pins. It also turns out that his shoulder regularly pops out of place, which he routinely pops back into place – that morning as a matter of fact, which he gleefully shares with the ER doc.
So after several hours of overhearing Mr Tale’s tales – all through the curtained partition mind you – I’m curious to see what this chatty fellow looks like. It turns out we both are escorted out at the same time, so I sneak a peek at him. He’s a skinny fella with a red, craggy face, bloodshot eyes and thin, short graying hair. He looks like his lived a tough, hard life, so maybe there is some truth to his tales – but 17 kids, I’m not so sure!
Anyway. I’m getting better. I am slowly getting my voice back, both one to talk and one to write, and entertaining thoughts of my post-Ham Chick career options.
Lisa, Talented and Professional and Still Hacking Job Seeker