icky sicky me

I've got some sort of upper respiratory nastiness. Normally, I'm a natural remedy, holistic health kind of a girl, but this time I knew I had an infection. And I knew how I got it. Four days ago, I undertook the job of cleaning black mold from my parents' basement. By day two, I had an irritated throat. Day three brought some heaviness in my chest. Today I woke up feeling like I had pneumonia, so I knew it was time to call the doctor.

I haven't taken antibiotics in four and a half years. I am lucky to be a pretty healthy person, and I am conscious about taking care of myself. I'm also conscious about what I put into my body, so that is why when I called the doctor this morning, my only goal was to get some antibiotics to treat the mold spores that made their way into my bronchioles.

My doctor was not in the office today, and it is the Friday before a holiday. That being the case, I consented to see another doctor in the office. The receptionist asked if that was okay in the kind of voice that should have warned me that this might not be such a good idea. I blithely replied that I didn't need to form a relationship with this doctor, I just needed some antibiotics.

First I saw the nurse, who was a girl that used to make fun of me when I was a child at Vacation Bible School. No kidding. I kept expecting her to start yelling, "Red Rover, Red Rover," while she was taking my blood pressure. Strange.

When the doctor came in, she took copious notes, did a very short (like ten seconds) exam, and then told me I would be having a chest x-ray and an EKG. The chest x-ray, I understand. But an EKG??? I expressed my confusion, and she replied, "You said your chest felt heavy, and you're over 40, so it could be your heart." Again. What. the. hell? I needed antibiotics. I knew how I felt. Sick. Not arrhythmic.

Fine. I went to the x-ray tech. To my surprise, my x-ray tech was a young woman that I've known for the whole of her life. I was her Sunday School teacher and youth group sponsor. She told me to undress, and take off my bra. Yes, ma'am? That was really no problem. We chatted. She took x-rays.

Then onto the EKG - that I didn't need in the first place. I was instructed to lie on the table and relax my body. She wanted my arms down at my sides and relaxed. Finally, something I knew how to do - the corpse asana. I breathed deeply, or as deeply as I could with a raging upper respiratory infection. I apparently almost failed the test. The young woman running that test looked at me as if I had something seriously wrong with me, and for a moment I actually became a little nervous.

When I got back with the doctor, she explained that the EKG tech was worried about my slow heart rate. The doctor chalked it up to my regular yoga practice. I replied that the young woman had told me to relax. Apparently, I'm good at that. At least the doctor knew enough to cast worry aside on that point. Well, apparently, the incredible breathing ability I have is also something of a headscratcher. The doctor mentioned at least three times that I have amazing lung expansion abilities. (Trained singer/ Instrumental musician/ yoga practitioner - yes I know how to breathe.) Hello? Need Antibiotics.

I did finally get a prescription for antibiotics, as well as three other medications. An antihistamine, some sort of mucous inducing thing, and a STEROID filled nasal spray. Fine. Can I go now?

Here's the thing. I remember my former family practitioner. Had he been conducting this appointment, he would have listened to what I had to say, listened to my chest, actually placed his hands on my throat to examine my nodes, and written a script. $50 later, I would have been out of his office, probably with free antibiotic samples in my hand. Today's visit carried a $350 price tag that will be passed onto my insurance provider. And people wonder why the health care industry needs to be reformed. I am shaking my head. And I am not sucking steroids through my nose. I'm just not that sick.