Why I’m Crying In LA and Not Relaxing In Rancho Mirage
Earlier in the week I went to the doctor because my throat was really sore. He did a Strep culture, said it’s most likely negative (ya know, because I am sans tonsils now), and said to call him back on Friday for the results before I leave for the desert. So, after a game of phone tag with a nurse, I am told I have to go back on Levaquin for a bacterial infection (not Strep). You may remember Levaquin is the drug I had to take for the stupid pseudomonas infection I had back in October.
Anyway, long story short, I finally spoke to the doctor who said the initial culture results came back positive for a proteus infection (yes, another totally random one), but we’ll know more on Monday when the full culture is done and to hold off on the Levaquin until then. I asked if I was contagious and told him about my plans for the weekend, and he said no kissing on the lips or sharing food. Okay, all is good.
However. One of the girls that I was supposed to go with this weekend is pregnant. I filled her in on the situation and she called her ob/gyn to get her thoughts. Basically, her doctor said the same thing as mine, but wouldn’t give her a “yes, you’ll be fine if she goes” or a “no, your friend shouldn’t go” type of answer, which of course, sucked. So, my friend thought about it and thought about it and finally decided it’s probably best if I don’t join them, because she doesn’t want to risk catching what I have with less than three months left in her pregnancy. So I’m here. It royally sucks, but I do think if I were in her situation, I would have done the same thing.
I’m so fucking tired of being sick. I thought the tonsillectomy was supposed to solve all of this. I swear, it’s like one big joke, especially since I feel fine save for a minor sore throat.
I’m going to head down to San Diego for the weekend instead. I hate my throat.