Tuesday, March 20, 2012

I'll never not be sick forever.

Pneumococcal Pneumonia. 
When I was younger my brother told me it was the longest word in the whole world (I think because one of my grandmothers had it at the time?) 
It wasn't until just about 5 seconds ago when I looked it up that I realized it isn't even one word. 
It's two. 
And I don't have Pneumococcal Pneumonia. 
But I DO have regular kind of Pneumonia. 

Remember that "bad cough" I was talking about last post? Who knew?

I sure didn't. 
In fact, I was so annoyed that Cj and my mom were making me go to the doctor that I complained the whole way there about what a huge waste of money and time it all was. The wait at the doctor's office was super long and at some point CJ had to leave to go to class and I sat there like a grumpy grouch (who couldn't stop coughing) until the doctor called me back. 
I was a grumpy grouch while he listened to me breathe. 
A grumpy grouch while he forced me to get an x-ray for reasons I was not understanding. 

And then...I felt rather sheepish when he showed me the cloudy stuff in my lungs. 
Good thing Cj and doctors know just how to ignore my stubbornness. 

Meanwhile, all this coughing has put me in the mood for a funny story: 

(It's a women's flag football story. Which are the best kind.) 

So I'm on a team this semester with a bunch of girls who I have never met. 
My friend Jill invited my sister and me to come play and I showed up the first day, shook hands with my teammates, attempted to learn names, and stepped onto the field.
And there they were. 
Team Pretty in Pink.
It was 10 a.m. on a Saturday and they were wearing sparkly pink hair bows and black strips under their eyes (it was cloudy, mind you.)
This is a team that represents everything I hate about women's flag football.
I even wrote a book about it and provided the text of said book below for easy reading.

Lessons I would like to teach Team Pretty in Pink: 
#1. Pink+Football= Nothing.
 No seriously. Nothing. They don't go together. Nobody has ever thought that. Ever.

#2. Women's flag football does not require your quarterback to have a playbook on her arm.

#3. Your quarterback should not have a playbook on her arm if she runs over to the sideline between every play to ask the "coaches" (boyfriends) on the sideline what they should do.

#4. Stop it.

I was dreading playing this team because I was unsure how my team would fare (I'd just met them all) and losing to a team in pink who has to depend on boys to run the game for them makes me feel the same way Frodo looks after he gets bit by a giant spider.
That face is just about how I felt for the entire first half. The pink-heads scored three touchdowns to our one and we didn't even get the extra point. Things were looking bleak and their pink shorts were really starting to rub me the wrong way.

Our quarterback called us all in and called a play.
By some miracle (part of which involved one of the pink-faced girls literally jumping on my back as I ran. The nerve!) we scored a touchdown our first play back on the field.
Then, we scored another.
And another.

I could see their little pink cheeks turning red.
(Okay, now I'm just being rude, even if it is a little bit deserved, and even if they...were wearing pink! on a football field! don't they know??)

The game ended like this

We were up by one touchdown and they had the ball with 20 yards to go. If they scored they could tie or possibly even win.
My quarterback walked over to me.
"Ignore your man (woman)" she said. "Just go for the quarterback's flags."
I was nervous but I was going to do as I was told (what do I know about football really? I know you're not supposed to wear sparkles.)
The whistle blew...I ran as fast as I could (not very fast)...she was going to throw the ball to my open mark...I dove...

....and suddenly another whistle was blown and the game was over.
I was still laying on the ground from the dive but I looked up to see the quarterback standing there with her flags on the ground...ball still in her hands...and her pants on the ground.
It really was an accident.
But it was the most "poetic justice" accident that has ever happened.

Even the refs high-fived me.
And you just virtually high-fived me.
And I accepted.



  1. I'm sorry you are sick. But you are hilarious, if that's any consolation?

  2. If you imagine all the players as Taylor Swift, it gets funnier. That's what I thought of. And I will admit I like a little Taylor Swift, but there's a time and a place. Just like there's a time and place for pink and sparkles.. most of which, I'm unaware of.

  3. I LOVE IT! That was awesome! Shayne and I are sitting here crying we are laughing so hard. So funny!