I am the doctor-goingest person around, or at least around my medicophobic family, because my particular neurosis is that if there is something malignant and tumorous going on inside me the place most comforting to me is With A Doctor. I just assume they will be more able to help than Ice-Bat or the mailman.
With this latest round of consumption I just couldn't make myself go. It's Fall, it's flu season, there's pigflu mania and even if I HAD pigflu there's nothing to be done but hibernate and hydrate anyway so why schlep my hacking, aching bones all the way to Murray Hill? (I've had the same doctor for the almost 15 years I've been in NYC, no matter where I've lived or what insurance I've had or not had - when I was unemployed she let me just pay what I could when I needed to come in. Also, I always get a same or next day appointment when I'm actually sick. Gold!)
But it's been 2 weeks of cold/flu/coldflu and this morning, my first day back in the office since last Tuesday, my coworkers basically heckled me til I agreed to call for an appointment. (Note: the same coworkers wanted me to come in in the first place, my instinct was to keep my germy ass home longer.) In keeping with her awesomeness doc said to just come in right away and I jetted up to her office where I only had to wait about 20 minutes to be squeezed in.
Verdict: bacterial bronchitis. So I've got the jauntily-named Z-pack (!) of antibiotics as well as a bottle of Hydrocodone. So if I don't update again it's because I'm off on some Limbaugh Magical Mystery Tour.
Two points:
1) I've been surprised before by the power of Ice-bat. Please do not mock Ice-bat or otherwise make him upset. Trust me.
2) Limbaugh was Oxycontin, not Hydrocodone (I think), so no dangers there. D swears by the latter, at least for post-childbirth.
That is all.
Feel better!
Posted by: Jon on November 2, 2009 06:39 PM