Friday I finally caved and went to the doctor.
After enduring a mostly sleepless night, interrupted by frequent coughing and attempts at rinsing out my repulsively full sinuses, I called in sick to work and made my way to my internist's office before 9am, which was lucky, since they close at noon on Fridays. This is an important point to note later.
After registering, I was quickly called to make my way to an exam room, making a quick stop at the digital scale. "Wait, that is 1X7.8lbs, NOT 1X8lbs! That .2lb makes a big difference!" Blood pressure, pulse, medications list all checked.
Doc walks in the door, notices I've lost weight since I last saw him...almost two years ago. He was complimentary of my progress then talked at length about obesity, drugs to curb it, and asked what I am doing to keep weight off. It was kind of like a back handed compliment. I am not THAT big. Could be, but I'm not. Sometimes it is okay to stop with a compliment.
Describe symptoms with cough-rasped whisper voice, throat checked, swollen neck glands checked, diagnosis: asthmatic bronchitis. G-R-E-A-T. Antibiotics and the good cough syrup are to be called into my pharmacy. Great!
Not so fast.
There is also a steroid shot in my left butt cheek. Happy Valentine's Day to me. Joy.
I pick up a note for work, and head there to drop it off and grab some groceries on the way to the pharmacy. No prescriptions were called in. This is now 11am. Pharmacy says they'll text when the meds are called in and ready for pick-up.
I go home, make a bowl of lunch and some herbal tea, and tangerine juice, fold the laundry on the small couch, and and lie down. By 2pm I still hadn't received a text. Call pharmacy. Prescriptions still haven't arrived. Call doc's office and get hung up on after being transferred three times. Call back and ask to be transferred to on call doc's office. Leave lengthy, pleading message to please, for the love of Valentine's Day, call in my medications so I can start feeling better.
Two more hours pass. Call pharmacy. They promise to page the doc and get me on the well-wagon. Moments later, doc faxes in the scripts...six hours after I left the office. Gee, I'm so glad you are concerned about my health.
Of course, I'm grateful for the gift of persistence and having enough energy to be my own health advocate. I hope others have the same strength for the simple and complicated things that life brings.
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