Mono Monday, Taco Tuesday

Well today the blood work came back. I’ve got mono, or as they call it here, glandular fever (or: “The Glandge” if you’re my annoying friends). The doctor said it could last up to a few months with the sore throat coming and going. She said I’d be tired a lot (big change there) and have less energy in general.

So the timing blows, but the hives (which was the mono reacting to the antibiotics) are going down so I can show my face in public again. I just have to spend a lot of time assuring my friends that they don’t have mono despite the number of drinks we’ve shared (but between you and me, they’ve got 4 to 6 weeks before a few of them are bound to start showing symptoms—we share a lot of drinks). Meanwhile I have my own cup, fork, spoon, and plate that nobody else goes near, a little like daycamp.

There’s not a lot to write about as I’m sleeping a lot, reading a lot, and generally trying to rally my energy for Belgium this weekend. This morning we SLU kids had to register with Garda, which was rather interesting. The group left just before noon for our 12:30 appointments. At 12:20, when we were still lost, we attempted hailing a cab. By 12:27 we had succeeded and just barely made it in time. The best part was that Brian, despite having lost his wallet last night, was still able to register (without driver’s license, school ID, or credit card). Not exactly U.S. homeland security. And when Brian finished explaining his situation stemming from his escapades last night, do you know what the Garda man responded? “But did you have a good time?”

Like usual, we entertained ourselves by making fun of each other’s new ID pictures, but this was made more fun by the fact that the Irish aren’t allowed to smile in such photos. My own was declared to resemble Wednesday Adams. The Irish girls next door find our grinning driver’s licenses ridiculous. When I asked why the no smiling rule, one of them explained, “You look different when you smile. Your eyes change.” True enough, you won’t be grinning when the Garda stop you, I guess.

After the appointments we slowly made our way back home, and I’ll spare you the details of the rest of my day (making a detour to follow a sign proclaiming the “Cheapest Supermarket in Ireland!” and, as is becoming the custom, being the butt of most of the day’s one-liners about germs). Happy groundhog day (a holiday that is completely lost on the Irish)!

P.S. Erin made tacos for dinner which entertained Kate’s Irish roommates to no end. Apparently their previous Americans celebrated Taco Tuesdays. That just might be a tradition we’ll have to keep up.

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  1. […] Dan says it is The Glandges fault. (If you don’t know what that is, see here.) […]

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