Well, not only does my mailman hate me, but my immune system isn't too fond of me either, apparently. First I had a cold. A bulldozer of a cold, and I was very snotty and sneezy and sleepy, and a few other dwarves. That went on for a while, and then this week? On Sunday, to be specific, I thought I was coming down with the flu, but then I realized I was due for my (nearly) annual larynx infection.
Ever since Emily was born, lo ten years ago, around November, I get a larynx infection. I get chills and a fever, my ears and throat hurt, and I go to the doctor. I'm one of those silly people who doesn't go to the doctor unless they're dying. I do not enjoy waiting in a waiting room, followed by waiting in an exam room, followed by trying to answer the question "What's wrong with you?" Wrong? What makes you think there's anything wrong? Isn't that sort of a personal question? Maybe there's something wrong with you, did you ever stop to ponder that, oh medical deity? Maybe I'm JUST FINE.
Anyway, the first couple of times I got this infection, let's call it Larry, the first couple of times Larry came to visit, I would go to the doctor, pull out my violin, and tell them my sob story, about how Larry wasn't treatin' me right, and they would say, "Oh, you probably have strep." They'd give me a quick strep test, which would come back negative, and tell me that they had just stuck a very sore part of my body with a cotton-covered stick for nothing, because these tests aren't very reliable, so we're going to poke you and make you gag one more time! and send it to the lab. In the mean time, here, have some antibiotics (have you heard about these things? Little capsules of fairy dust, I tell you!), and we'll call you tomorrow with your strep results.
Upon ingesting the antibiotics, I would immediately begin to feel better, and then the doctor would call the next day, just as I was putting the pill to my lips, and say "Stop! You do not have strep! Step away from the pill! You don't understand the peril you are thrusting upon humankind by taking antibiotics when you don't need them! Resistant strain! Blah blah blah! Nuclear winter, blah blah, only cockroaches will survive!" And I'm all OK already, simmer down there, doc. And I'd stop taking the magical pills of wonder, and once again fall gravely ill.
I would then decide I needed to go to an ENT (ear, nose, and throat doctor, and why did I use the initials if I was just going to spell it for you? Like don't you hate it when Rachel Ray says EVOO, and then tells you it stands for extra virgin olive oil? What's the point of saying EVOO if you're just going to use all those other words anyway? But I digress.) So I would go to an ENT, and he'd say, "You have a raging larynx infection, have you been screaming at your children more than usual?" And I'd say, "No 'bout the same as always." And he'd tell me he was tempted to hospitalize me, and I'd say, I don't need no stinking hospital, just give me the drugs, and he'd say, okay, under these conditions will I let you go home, blah blah. And then he's give me a prescription for (drum roll please!) ANTIBIOTICS!
That's a very long route to go, to get something farmers regularly feed their cows.
But after the second year, I caught on, and realized that Larry might decide to vacation in my throat every year. Thankfully he didn't do this every year, but many years he decided that my throat was the Fiji, the Club Med, the San Cabo for bacteria. Oh sure you have your riffraff-- those white blood cells trying to break up the party, but the sun, the surf, the Mai Ties can't be beat.
Fast forward to Monday. (Sweet baby corn this post is long. You see what happens when I just let my brain run its mouth? Are you still with me? We're in the home stretch.) We just moved here this summer, so I have no GP or ENT or WXYZ, so I pick a GP out of the phone book, who is right down the street, and I tell her I think I have a larynx infection, we go through the whole rigamarole, only she doesn't even bother retesting my rapid strep results, she just says I have a virus, thankyouverymuchthat'llbe$25pleasepayonyourwayout.
And I decide, screw it, I'm not going to hunt down an ENT in my condition (which I probably should've seen in the first place, but I foolishly believed that a GP would, you know, listen to me). So I decide to take some antibiotics my doctor prescribed for me a few months ago, which I really didn't need, and didn't take, and I started taking them, and now I've upgraded from rilly sick, to well enough to moan and whine about being sick, so I feel much better, the end!
And those of you who would like to scold me for bucking the system and using previously prescribed drugs on an undiagnosed condition, please leave me your contact info, Larry would like to send you a complimentary fruit basket.