Valentine's Schmalentine's Part I

Random photo shop, but he is wearing red!

Valentine's Day is overrated.  I am possibly saying this because my last few have been disappointing.  Let me first say that Chris has nothing to do with this. These dismal February 14ths have been out of our control.  I used to like this holiday; beautiful flowers, gobs of pink, and a fancy dinner.  But, let's be honest. If you are married, expensive flowers are nice, but you are the one paying for them. I can wear pink any time of the year and do.  And if you are brave enough to try and go out to dinner on Valentine's Day, you wait hours even if you have a reservation.  This has been my experience, anyway.  Perhaps my sour mood has something to do with passing the time until my ride (aka mom) comes to pick me up and take me to the doctor's office to get a throat culture.  Nothing says "Happy Valentine's Day" like a cotton swab being jammed down your throat!  Anyway, I haven't felt very well the last few days.  With my luck, I've gotten up early, enlisted my mom to chauffeur me, wait an hour at the doctor's just for them to tell me I have a cold and to drink more fluids.  But, I would rather know early on if I need meds or not to worry.  History shows that  any time I have a sore throat, it is due to some infection or something.  I usually get these at least twice a year.  I guess I was naive to think I was safe since I am mostly at home.  I may need to think seriously about cutting out my few weekly outings to avoid getting sick like this again before Cohen comes.  I have been trying to go to church and help at the grocery store, but that just may come to an end.  Ironically, I will probably get sick just going to my weekly OB appointments.
Speaking of appointments, (I'll get back to V-day in a moment) there was only one troubling incident of note in the last week or so.  Chris never fails to make a comment about the sign that tells to to stay your distance because of other patients' privacy.  However, this is not very effective if the receptionist is going to holler out all of your information for the entire waiting room to hear anyway! Forget that five foot buffer.  This lady has the tone and annunciation of a kindergarten teacher and she acts as if you are dumb or deaf or both.  Last week when she presented my form to me to sign, I quickly scanned the top info to make sure it was correct.  The reason for my visit was different than it usually is, so I inquired about it.  As loud as she could, she leaned over the counter and pointed to the words. "OB MEANS YOU ARE PREGNANT..." and so on and so forth.  I was mortified and turned bright red. Something I haven't done since school days when I was called out in class. Then I was more embarrassed about being the shade of a cherry than what I had done.  I didn't even hear the rest of her explanation.  I looked around the room and several patients were looking at me as if I were the biggest idiot in the world.  Contrary to what this lady believes, I do know what OB stands for.  It was the rest of the initials I was asking about.  Chris was kind of mad and wanted to mention it to our doctor, saying that what if it was really private information that she was sharing with the world?  I talked him out of it, saying that our info wasn't private this time, and our good doctor doesn't need to be bothered with such matters. 
Back to Valentine's Day.  Oh, shucks. I need top get ready to go.  But, I will post what last Valentine's Day was like when I get back.