Dr. Doodle and his magic pills

At 4 am, I woke up and said to myself:
"I need to go to the doctor."
And so I kept thinking about it for then next 5 hours till I figured that the doctor's office would be open, only to discover that I had lost my ability to speak.
"Wheeze," I said to myself.
I went into Josh and Eva's room to get them ready for the day, and I whispered as loud as I could, "Josh, go run to the potty."
"What?"
"Go run to the potty."
He then whispered, "Okay."
For the rest of the morning and afternoon, whenever I had occasion to talk to my son (when I wasn't in bed, I mean) he would whisper all his replies.
Jeremy started doing it too, but it wasn't nearly as cute.
After all sorts of nonsense (thank you Mom!), I finally got an appointment with a doctor. Stupid I'm-not-taking-new-patients doctor...grrrrr
As the afternoon dragged on, I thought (since I couldn't say it aloud),
"I must have bronchitis or laryngitis."
"Sounds reasonable," I replied to myself.
At some point, during my conversation with myself, it occurred to me that some strange sounds were coming from the living room. I went out to find my son had colored the furniture and carpet with a permanent marker, and then had poured water on it.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING YOUNG MAN???" I screamed.
It actually came out like this:
"Wheeeeeeze, cough, squeek, wheeeze!"
Josh gave me a blank stare.
"Wheeze squeek!"
I then decided I needed to go back to bed.
Jeremy came home early and he whisked me to the doctor's office.
I have to admit, I always worry when I go to the doctor that they will say I am crazy and that I am a hypochondriac.
So, the doctor began to look in rather embarrassing places (not really, I suppose, but I am really shy.) and asked me all sorts of questions about the history of health in my family.
Jeremy and I brought up Eva (who has also been suffering), and to make sure I understood that he was really listening, he repeated what we told him.
"So, you have one child, blah blah blah..."
"Wheeze," I said, correcting him.
"Oh, you have two?"
"Wheeze."
"A boy and a girl?"
"Hack." I affirmed.
"Well, you look young enough to just have one, blah blah.."
To which I replied, blushing,
"Squeek! Wheeze! Hack! Squeek squeek!"
(What made his comment more satisfying is, this morning, as I looked at my disheveled being, I thought to myself, "Just because I am sick, doesn't mean I have to look sick.")
As our doctorly conversation drew to a close, the doctor gave us his verdict.
"Well, you aren't wheezing," he said with sterility.
"Wheeze squeek!"
"Excuse me?"
I just shook my head.
"Anyway, it looks like you have..."
Bronchitis? Laryngitis?
"Bronchitis AND laryngitis."
OOO! Fancy!
He then started to be really, really mean.
"I am going to give you a prescription, but you may not need it, so you might want to just hold out for a few days instead of taking antibiotics, blah blah cold and sterile blah blah blah....I want you to suffer and die, blah blah blah...."
"Squeeeeeeeeeeek!" Being interpreted:
"GIVE ME DRUGS!"
"Any questions?"
"Squeek!"
"Alright, then. Goodbye."
Drugs....yay....
I have to admit, after I took the drugs, I had hoped that all my symptoms would disappear...Apparently not...I wonder if I can mix drugs? Zithromax, Sudafed, and codine...what do you think?