One week ago, after being sick for ten days, I finally conceded that I was so sick that I needed to do something I never, ever do: I made a doctor’s appointment. But the doctor was all booked up until tomorrow. I made the appointment, sure that by the time it rolled around, I would no longer need it. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been sick with anything for two and a half weeks.

Flash forward to today. I’m still sick and very much looking forward to seeing the doctor. When I get home, there’s a message waiting for me on my answering machine. The doctor needs to reschedule my appointment for another day.

Why? He’s out sick.

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