How Many Coughs is Enough For One Day (standard:humor, 905 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Sep 03 2023	Views/Reads: 435/258	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
As I get older, I realize that there are times when I do need to see a doctor. Even Jesus believed that.

This past week started rather rough. At least rougher than others. 

It started with a cough. A cough is not that serious if it's just one
cough or maybe two. But it is not good when it is one cough after 
another and another. 

One day last week, right after this coughing spell began, the Gracious
Mistress of the Parsonage and I enjoyed a fine supper, and I sat back 
in my chair as we started watching TV and relaxing after a busy day. 

Then, my coughing spree began. I coughed and coughed and coughed almost
uncontrollably. I've had a coughing fit, and then I sneezed my brains 
out. That's snot good. 

I was hoping to get this under control and quite soon. 

Looking at me, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage said, "What's all
that coughing about?" She said it as though I had control over my 
coughing. 

"Oh, nothing," I said, "I think I just swallowed a fly." Then I smiled. 

"What," she exclaimed, "you swallowed a fly? Didn't you have enough at
supper?" 

Now, I'm in trouble. I had no explanation that she would accept. 

Then, I had another coughing spell that seemed worse than before. I
tried to stop but just could not. 

At my age, you would think I could control the things in my life. I
tried, but I have yet to be successful. 

Now, Miss-Nurse-Am-I stepped in. She had a thermometer to take my
temperature, and it was high. She gave me a Covid test, and I passed, 
much to her chagrin and my smile. She then took my blood pressure, and 
it was high. Imagine 2 out of 3! 

When all her testing was finished, she looked at me seriously. This was
on Saturday, and she said we had to cancel our Sunday morning service. 
I tried to protest, but I was coughing too much to respond. 

Not having the church service on Sunday morning is a great downer for
me. I love nothing more than Sunday church. And there was no 
replacement, so the service had to be canceled. That made me cough even 
more with a sour ending. 

Then, the law was laid down. "I'm calling the doctor," she said, "on
Monday and schedule an appointment. You're sick." 

In my position, I had nothing to do but cough. 

There is nothing more that I like doing than seeing my doctor to begin
the week. He loves seeing me, and we all know why. It ain't my 
charming, good looks, that's for sure. 

There is no Sunday I like less than not going to church and wearing
pajamas all day. I did try to get dressed, but Miss-Nurse-Am-I caught 
me and said, "Don't you dare get dressed. You're spending the day in 
bed. You're sick." 

Well, if I want to object to Miss-Nurse-Am-I, I had better make plans
for my funeral. 

I did not know how long a Sunday is when I'm in my pajamas, not
permitted to do anything but cough. And cough, I did. 

I tried to take advantage of these coughing spells and sometimes faked
some. Don't let her know, but a fake cough can have a soothing element 
to it, along with a smile. 

Then Monday came, as it always does. The appointment was made for the
morning, thanks to a cancellation. And I was getting ready to go to the 
doctor and get his report on my condition. I wasn't that anxious, but I 
had no choice then. 


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