Yup, that's where I've been for the last week. Boogers and beads, but mostly boogers...
It started on Thursday morning when Colden woke up with a fever of 103 and a runny nose. We took him to the pediatrician who didn't see anything obviously wrong with him, and we decided to cancel Thanksgiving with Tom's folks to let Colden rest. (I also woke up feeling pretty crappy that day with a runny nose and a sore throat, so I needed some rest, too.)
The next morning, Colden's fever hit 104.7 and I panicked. Sandy came over and held Colden and let him sleep while I packed a bag and we got ready to go back to the pediatrician.
The next few days are just a blur in my memory - trips to the pediatrician, my fever climbing and my sore throat getting worse and worse, and our frustration at the pediatricians' refusal to give us an antibiotic for Colden because they kept insisting that what he had was viral.
Finally, yesterday, I woke up with my throat so sore and swollen that I couldn't really swallow. I took some Motrin to take care of the pain and went to the walk-in clinic where I'd been a few times to have someone check me out and give me an antibiotic - I was sure that this was another round of strep throat, which I have had before, and which I seem to get when I'm under a lot of stress.
They tried several times to get a throat culture from me, but every time that swab went near the back of my throat, I threw up. I finally told the p.a. to just give me an antibiotic and send me home, because I was tired of the torture. She looked at me like I was five, shook her head and said, "I can't do that because that's just not good medicine." I nearly jumped off the exam table and strangled her with her own pony tail.
"Oh, but it's good medicine to let me go home with an untreated strep infection?" I countered.
"Well, if it is strep, then we need to quarantine you for 24 hours. You won't be able to go to work -"
"That's fine, because I work from home."
She said that she needed to go talk to her supervisor, the doctor who owned the practice. He's a bit of a horse's ass himself, but that's another story for another time.
I heard them conversing outside and then she came back into the room and told me that I had a few options, one of which was giving me an antibiotic without a throat culture.
"Give me the antibiotic," I said again. She sighed and sat down to write me out a prescription for Amoxicillan which I promptly took to the nearest pharmacy and had filled.
Later that afternoon, I sat down in the exam room with Tom and Colden and the pediatrician and told the pediatrician that we wanted an antibiotic for Colden and we were done waiting for the fever to go down. She FINALLY relented and gave us a prescription for Zithromax.
Now, as a former pharmacy technician, I understand the concerns with antibiotic-resistant infections and superbugs. But this, I think, is ridiculous. We've gone from giving antibiotics out like they were candy to restricting their use like they're controlled substances. Why is it impossible to find a happy medium here?
After just two doses of the antibiotics, the swelling in my throat went away, and I could eat and feel normal again. After just one dose of Colden's antibiotics, his fever broke. Coincidence? Maybe. But we probably could have had a much better weekend if the pediatrician had just given us the damn antibiotic on Saturday instead of making us wait all weekend.
Okay, getting off my soap box now.
Tomorrow, beady stuff, I promise!