Contaminated

I gots myself some bronchitis.  

Only one other guy out of the other thirty people in the waiting room got to wear a cute mask like me.  I guess you could say I'm pretty lucky like that.  I was there for almost three hours wearing that stupid thing.  Every time I would cough, I would inhale the mask and felt like I was suffocating.  It was delightful. 

 Other people avoided me.  I had a whole bench to myself while others sat on the floor.  It's fine, I was nervous about the other guy in the mask until they asked me to wear one myself.  

When I finally got to meet with the doctor (70 pages in my book, countless rounds of Scrabble, and many texts later), she was much more concerned about my hair than me.  My cough was just another cough to her, but the color of my hair and the braid in my hair, now that's something she doesn't see everyday.  So glad I could let her experience that.  

Whatever.  She gave me lots of drugs, and that's all I wanted.