the end result is this: i have been infected with toxoplasmosis. mr. monkey, never a cat lover, did not take the news well, and for a day or two eyed me with suspicion and slight disgust. he's over it now, but i do emit a small meow every once in a while to keep him in line.
several days later it was revealed that i have tested positive for a TB skin test. this, in case you're worried about spending face time with me, does not mean i have tuberculosis. it simply means i have been exposed to it at some point. i'd blame the walking oozing plague that is the population of fort mcmurray, if it weren't for the fact that i had already tested positive 15 years earlier, before fate's cruelty had landed me in that particular cesspool of human affliction and pestilence.** yes, you can still talk to me unmasked. yes, you can still bathe and eat at my house. hell, i can even donate blood, if you'd like some.
still, i think it's pretty funny that over the course of a week, i have gone from generally*** healthy woman of a certain age, to walking contagion (figuratively speaking, of course).
in marginally related news, i poked my finger with a prawn, and am wondering what trans-epidermal wonders of crustacean infestation are now lurking in my blood stream.
*just because you're a hypochondriac doesn't mean you can't die of cancer. just sayin'.
** if you think i exaggerate, i invite you to spend a few months up there. once you've recovered, we can talk.