I sneezed three times on Tuesday afternoon, and one of them was a hard sneeze that hurt the back of my throat and made me wince. I thought idly on the way home that sneezing like that even once usually means I am getting sick. I felt fine, though, so I used my neti pot before bed and thought nothing more of it.
By Wednesday midday I felt like I’d been beaten with a stick, and swallowing was a misery of broken glass shards. I went home early, crept into bed, and stayed there until I forced myself to Urgent Care first thing Thursday morning. If I could have drooled helplessly on myself to avoid the flaming cavern of agony that resulted from swallowing, I would have.
Urgent Care was, as usual, a gallery of crazy although I suppose I looked no different, hunched over my knitting and whimpering every time I had to swallow my spit. The nurse took some swabs (which hurt like hell) and ran the tests. “You have strep!” the doctor cheerfully announced as he bustled in a few minutes later. I resisted the urge to say “NO SHIT SHERLOCK GIVE ME MY DRUGS” but merely smiled and nodded. He flashed a penlight into my mouth and said, “Yep! That’s an easy one! Look at all of those white spots! Look at those tonsils! Textbook.”
Although the doctor told me that I couldn’t give strep throat to children, that they are usually the carriers and the contagion is reserved for adults, GB kindly took Miss L so that there was no chance. Plus, I could barely lift my head off the pillow.
I’ve been on the antibiotics for a full 24 hours and while I do feel better than I did yesterday, when I rocked up to Urgent Care and nearly throttled the kindly doc for my antibiotics, I’m still reeling. This strep came on fast and hit me hard and took me out at the knees. My throat is still on fire and although I can knock it back with ibuprofen, at least enough to swallow, I was expecting a much more rapid improvement. I also missed a day of work when I can scarcely afford to, with two board meetings next week, one the following week, and no time to prepare all of the agendas, packets, and presentations that I am responsible for.
I’m hoping another dose of antibiotics will give me less pain and more energy, but in the meantime, I am tucked up in bed with my (admittedly indifferent) nursemaids and a book.