I had a battle appointment with my doctor recently. His heart must sink when he realizes that I’m in his exam room. I don’t mean to be a problem, but … nurses are notoriously bad patients.
I’d had a cough for about a week, which had recently developed into a sore throat. It hurt way down in the front of my throat, at the larynx. And because I’ve had, in the past, a two-year battle with C. diff, I am extremely reluctant to take antibiotics. In fact, I’m generally reluctant to take any medications at all.
My head has to be splitting open before I swallow a Tylenol. It’s just how I am.
So I showed up in his office on a Thursday morning, complaining of a deep, persistent cough and raw sore throat. I fervently hoped he had his magic wand with him, because I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like any of his suggestions.
Predictably, the conversation went like this: