But something's working, because I feel, if not completely cured, substantially better now than a few days ago. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was a weekend's worth of bed rest. But most likely, it was a decided lack of sympathy from my family. Their attitude was basically, tough hockey, dad.
Life goes on.
So the kids screamed at each other all weekend, and my wife vacuumed. I did laundry. My wife convinced me that the smell of the fabric softener would have a soothing effect. I've turned the corner, but since I can't pinpoint the exact reason, I must conclude that the doctor visit had some value. Who knows, if Congress ever adopts universal healthcare, I may become a regular.