HERE. It's that time of year.
Strep throat is a bacterial infection. It entered my Thunderdome last week, after a hike with friends and a meal. Strep is highly contagious. You can pick it up just by touching an unclean door knob at a restaurant's rest room (so, yes, continue washing your hands a lot ... and do NOT touch your face).
Anyway, America's shambolic (trust me, your first guess will be right, if you don't already know the adjective) health-case system has hit the jackpot: Covid-19 variants multiply faster than bunnies; flu remains a strong seasonal force to be reckoned with; there's a new player: RSV; and then there's this long-time teacher's pet, strep throat.
Bottom line: I can't get an appointment with a doctor anywhere within driving distance in near-2023.
Yet I can't swallow.
Understand: I LOVE my docs; they amaze me; I'm grateful.
But the SYSTEM (the web we're trapped in) isn't ready ... and 2022-2023 is a MILD test of America's "health-care system."
We all need to hear the demographic REAL truth about aging populations and our society's ability to cope (it can't yet ... or even close; although if you work in the non-profit sector you're trying to be helpful ... ).
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The Mayo Clinic online pretty much confirmed my self-diagnosis. Low-grade fever. Headaches.
Worst symptom from my head down? Excruciating to swallow. Even a tassel of gently descending saliva bends me in half: with shouting pain. Try to stealth a much-needed pill down my throat, shielded past by an innocent luke-warm sip of water: puts me on my knees. Prognosis?
For two days my nutritional intake has been the occasional honey lozenge, all my throat would tolerate.
I've started to pray ("Dear Simone... If you can hear me...."). Finally, I find a doctor who will talk to me via telemedicine; PlushCare it's called. The online doc is careful. Thoughtful. Probing. Exhaustive. She prescribes! I rush to my nearest pharmacy.
Miracles happen.
And hallelujah in little more than a day my tonsils-flogged-across-broken-glass, those dramatic unh-unh swallowing symptoms begin to subside. Organs begin to rehydrate, expanding like kitchen sponges. Body shouts: eat! I hire an Uber. "Take me to the nearest All-You-Can-Eat buffet with a full liquor license."
The sun sets on another infection.
In the end I wondered, should I have gone to YouTube first? Here's what I found. Sounds solid, too.