Sunday night when I was painting my cabinet, I noticed that one side of my throat was a little bit painful when I swallowed. I assumed that the power of magical thinking and also the power of I Don't Have Time to Get Sick would make it go away, but BOY WAS I WRONG.
Little throat tickle morphed into all night nausea plus sore throat party. Neat!
I slept a little late the next morning and then forced myself to go into work for a few hours because I didn't want to miss the student seminars and the group picture. And also, I'm an academic so I'm really just a floating head with no body right? Even if my head was the part of my body that felt like it was wrapped tightly in barbed wire?
I managed to stay vertical long enough to point the students in a moderately productive direction for the rest of the afternoon then drove home in a fog and collapsed in my bed, where I stayed until about five when it became clear that the children would be needing dinner. I wasn't going to let some little viral sore throat problem that I was probably overreacting to anyway get in the way of a little thing like making DINNER.
When Ryan came home I went back to bed and slept for several hours then woke up to watch Scandal with him then stayed up all night wondering why the Advil bottle was ALLLL the WAY DOWNSTAIRS, which might as well have been Pakistan considering my ability to get up and walk down there. In a moment of desperation I unearthed some old cold medicine promising drowsiness don't operate heavy machinery in our bathroom and took that. That helped some but I woke up around 7:00 feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.
Miss N took the kids to camp and Ryan went to work and I lay on my bed musing about JUST HOW BAD MY THROAT HURT. I mean, I'd probably give it a nine out of ten. My brain wasn't screaming for coffee either which was a sure sign that something was amiss. Two times I dialed the doctor's office to make an appointment and two times I hung up, not wanting to spend $20 and sixty precious sitting up minutes only to hear that it was just a virus. But finally I figured that I might possibly not be imagining the nine out of ten throat pain that had lasted for two days and maybe I should just get it checked out.
The nurse called my name and took me in the back to weigh me where I learned that a quick way to lose eight pounds is to not be able to swallow food for two days. I'm going to make a FORTUNE selling strep bacteria on the home shopping network! I should have waited it out another day and gone for TEN.
I had to wait kind of a longish time but I was really glad I had made the appointment when I found that I was most comfortable lying down on the four foot long table since that made things nominally less swirly and hurty in my head, though I still couldn't really swallow saliva. I was sure the doctor would think I was a huge drama queen when she came in to find me in that position, but I didn't feel like I had a choice.
And then the doctor came in and said "Strep test is positive! You get antibiotics!"
And then she looked at my throat and visibly recoiled.
It's always better to have a legit name for what is wrong with you than to just keep asking your husband to do extra things around the house because you don't "feel good." A trip to the pharmacy (where you have to put your head down on the steering wheel while you wait because ACTUALLY VERY SICK NOT A DRAMA QUEEN) is even better.
I am back at home now doped up on antibiotics and an ibuprofen horse pill. BRING ON THE CRAPPY TV!