Rosa was sitting in the den watching TV with Maggie. I swear my dog watches TV, too. It was pouring down rain outside and I was standing at my front door as I looked out and smoked a cigarette.
"What are you doing?" Rosa asked uneasily. "And why do you have on that pullover? It is hot in here."
"Oh, just watching the rain. I can't watch the television," I replied. "And I am cold."
"Come here and let me feel your forehead," Rosa said.
I walked over and Rosa felt my forehead.
"Christ! You're burning up!" Rosa replied.
"I don't feel sick. I just feel cold."
"Call your dad and ask for something to take."
"He will think I only want to get high and will ration it. It wont do any good."
My thoughts turned to that age old adage of the boy who too often cried wolf. The only way my family will come to my aid is if I'm passed out in the floor. I tried to explain this to Rosa. Rosa can somewhat understand as her family has little to do with her after all her years of using and stealing from them.
"At least, go get in the bed," Rosa told me concerned.
"I'll be fine. I swear! I don't feel sick!" I empathically replied.
Thus goes the evening in J-ville. A little health drama is something we never shy away from around here. I just hope I am not crying wolf when I say I feel well.