Coming out of it

The past two weeks I’ve been fighting some sort of infection that started as a cold and moved to my chest and wouldn’t leave, like that green blob monster in the commercial that sets up housekeeping in the victim’s lungs.

My own doctor was out of town, of course, when I called for an appointment when all this started. I am usually pretty stubborn, much to Kathy’s chagrin, about bothering him about a cold. I typically wait until I’m in dire straits before breaking down and calling for help. The office called me back with a prescription for Keflex. Six days later, I wasn’t any better so I got back on the phone.

Fortunately, my guy was back and invited me to drop by early the next morning before office hours so he could fix me up. Woo-hoo, I thought—just a quick visit and I’ll be on my way to work in minute.

Alas, it was not to be. You see, my doctor is a DO, and as such, he occasionally brings in medical students for a few weeks to observe his practice and get to do some real work with patients. Wouldn’t ya know it? He sent in the current student to assess me. I gave up on the idea of a quick getaway as I could see that this guy was going to take forever.

It took him a long time to get my blood pressure, look down my throat, listen to my chest and back. Then he started to do these silly neurological tests, like running his fingers up my legs and asking me if it felt the same. The same as what, I wondered. I’m not having a stroke, I’m having a bronchial event that’s kicking my butt. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind students at all. Granted, the paramedic students learning to draw blood in the ER do make me a tad nervous, but how else can they learn, if people don’t give them a crack at their bodies?

So he left the room, shut and door, and I could hear him discussing my case with the doctor. “What would you prescribe?” my guy asked. “Levaquin”, the student replied. Ah-ha! I thought—I’m allergic to that. Wonder what else he’ll come up with.

In they come, and my guy does the exact same assessment (minus the silly stuff) in a fraction of the time, and reviews my chart. He taps his finger on the list of allergies. The student is foiled! My guy turns and asks me what I would suggest. “How about z-pack?” I offered. Sure enough, that’s what I came away with, and that’s what seems to have kicked back at this bug.

On Friday, my co-workers sent me home at noon so I could get some rest. Considering I’m in charge while the director is away, could there have been an ulterior motive? I don’t care. I came home and slept for four hours and was on my way to feeling human again.