Early Friday morning I got a sore throat. A bad sore throat. One that made swallowing an unfortunate situation that I would avoid like the plague (haha, irony) and would cause me to have a mouth full of spit when I did, and I would wince every time.
I knew it was worse than the sore throat I get before a cold because it was. And it was weird. Only on one side, and I could feel it hurting in my ear, which was bizarre. Typical response for me at this point is to get going on my natural remedies to see if I can make a dent on the fever.
Epsom salt baths: check
garlic and honey: check
vitamin C: check
hot tea: check
gargle with salt water and apple cider vinegar: check
make disgusting combination of cayenne pepper, garlic, and honey, chased with milk kefir (which, also, I hate): check
rinse repeat.
Friday afternoon I recognise that the body temp has gone up and the sore throat has stayed the same and I have almost no appetite. I stand on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror. I point a flashlight into my mouth and flatten my tongue with a table knife (we have no popsicle sticks in the house.) At first I do not see anything, but, when my tonsil peeks out from the left side I see white spots. Crap.
I google white spots. I must know if they are exclusive to strep. I call my mother and discuss my options. Ben does not work the next few days so I have flexibility on getting a doctor's appointment or urgent care. I call the doctor on my insuranee card and find out they aren't accepting new patients on my insurance anymore.
Ben gets home from work and I stubbornly choose to wait until Saturday, thinking the pain will subside. I wince through dinner. We had chicken and broth. The broth tasted great but did not swallow well. I was still a little hungry but did not want to swallow anymore.
When I went to bed I took a Ricola and sucked on it until i realized I would have to swallow much more often than without so I took it out and attempted to sleep. Sleep was on and off, and it was clear to me that I should have allowed myself the time to go to the Patient first that night rather than in the morning.
Saturday morning rolls around... at 5am. I can't sleep because of my pain so I attempt all my remedies again. Epsom salt bath to work the fever along, gargles to help the tonsils, vitamin C in a fultile attempt, forcing the garlic down. I finally get back to bed at 6:40 and my precious children let me sleep until 7:50am. What a gift. Then the morning sucks because it hurts to swallow my spit and my tonsils have swelled so I can hear it in my voice and I know that a visit to urgent care is necessary.
I watch the Tonight show.
When it is 9am I get Ben up and then I leave for Lancaster. On my way i see a "papal event traffic, expect regional delays" sign and giggle to myself, thinking that the pope is still in NYC and they think he's going to cause traffic in Lancaster County. (I later learn that he's in Philly for the end of his US visit.)
I find the urgent care without any trouble and sign in and am immediately called back. I feel good about myself when I step on the scale and the nurse assumes I weigh under 200 pounds... which I don't, especially with breakfast and liquids in my belly and shoes and jeans on. I see later on my stat sheet that I am five seven (haha!), and then I remembered I was wearing my shoes. The nurse does a quick throat swab and then the longest part of waiting for the day begins. And I hear the casual conversation between the employees there: Some new person is still learning how to correctly stock the drawers, the prescription printer is not working so the pharmacist has to hand write the prescriptions.
I wait for awhile, I read all the brochures in the "room", I half watch some of the employees and spot the doctor right away (he looks exactly the same as his picture on the website). I wonder if any of them know what the pope is doing. I text my mother, Ben, and a lady from my moms group who just ran a half marathon. I get lots of text from my mother in law, as they are coming for Naisa's third birthday on Monday. I hope the kids don't get sick.
Then the doctor comes in, Dr. Weinstein. He asks me what I do when I'm not fighting sore throats, and I tell him of the heroic work I do. (hahaha) He checks my throat and and says, "well you've cured the white spots, but I'm going to let the cat out of the bag--you have strep." So he prescribes the Amoxicillin, and after asking if it's severe pain swallowing, also prescribes some lidocaine that I can gargle with to numb my throat. (Winner winner chicken dinner!!)
As I drive home, I have a discussion with myself about what I want to do. I didn't like the ingredients in the throat squirt (saccharin and artificial cherry flavor, and parabens as preservatives) so I decide that I'm only going to use it if I can't sleep. And I resign to taking the antibiotics.
After a couple more painful swallows, I test out the "gargle". First time, I numb my lips, second time I numb my tongue. Third time, I put it in a spray bottle with water and successfully dull the pain in my throat. And after that time, I start feeling better, so I no longer need to use it.
Anyone who viewed my internet history would know that (besides the current presidential candidates), I spend a lot of time learning what natural remedies I can use to help myself and my children through illnesses. But I always knew that strep was one of those that I can't completely justify "fighting" it off. Viral illnesses, I have no problem with. Bacterial illnesses are much more difficult, especially those that the end product goes to infect your kidneys and organ systems, scarlett fever, and in a few individuals, damaging your heart. And knowing my track record or maintaining a sterile environment in our home (ah no), I did not want to infect my children and have to get them antibiotics as well.
So here's to a healthy throat, then I'll worry about getting a healthy gut again. I have lots of probiotic foods to consume with jest in the next couple weeks (beet kvass, milk kefir, sauerkraut, yogurt).
I'm glad to not have glass stabbing my throat any more.
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