~Poop On Jelly~

Our Family's Bitter/Sweet Life



Wednesday, January 21, 2009

THAT Patient

Mrs. Nurse Boy here.

So, it turns out I am THAT patient.

You know the one. Crabby. Cranky. Sick. Tired. Grumpy. Wimpy. Demanding. Impatient. And, have I mentioned Demanding?

I went to Urgent Care on Monday. That was my first mistake. You see, I LOVE my doctor. That is a whole other post. I went to Urgent Care because it is affiliated with my husband's hospital; therefore, it is free. Free speaks volumes to me. I love free. But, I forgot. I hate Urgent Care.

I already confessed that I didn't want them to swab the back of my throat. MY doctor would have listened to me, taken a look, and probably just wrote the script. You see, she trusts her eyes. I am no medical expert, but I don't think it is that hard to see the puss pockets hanging out and happily waving at the back of one's throat. Those darn puss pockets. Evil and selfish little boogers.

The doctor at Urgent Care came into the room with a thick accent and sweet smile. He was way too jolly for someone who just had a cotton swab shoved down their throat while being laughed at by her daughter and husband. (No, forgiveness is NOT one of my strengths. No sirree.) Once the strep test came back positive, he wanted to look down my throat. I told him I didn't think that was going to happen. You see, I was in pain. Why else would a mother of three be spending the day in Urgent Care? Didn't he know I had bigger fish to fry? But, he insisted. I decided not to argue. I didn't have the energy. I wanted to scream, "Is the positive strep test not enough for you?" But, I didn't. I let him gag me. I politely explained that it felt like I had a golf ball at the back of my throat and my gag reflex was in full swing.

He prescribed an antibiotic that I had never taken before. I just wanted my quick little Z PAC. Like I said, I was demanding. I'll own it. "Oh, no," he says. "This is much too bad for a wimpy little Z PAC. I must prescribe you some horse pills. We have simply NOT seen you gag enough today. And, just for the memories, can I have another gander down in that inflamed throat of yours? Oh, yeah. That looks really bad."

Don't even get me started on what a wimp I am when it comes to taking pills. Both of my parents and my husband could dedicate an entire blog to this topic alone. Again, I'll own it. It is simply who I am. Just give me those little, adorable pink pills in the Z PAC carton. I wanted my Z PAC.

So, for the last two days, I choked down my horse pills. Whatever it takes to get rid of that golf ball. However, 24 hours later I started noticing that I had an awful taste in my mouth. I mean AWFUL. Have you ever had the stomach flu? You know that awful taste you just can't escape during that illness. Yep, that's the taste.

Gross, I know! TMI, I know! Sorry about that.

After day 2, the taste was just more than I could bare AND the golf ball was smaller, but still there. Not feeling better. Still gagging. Really grumpy.

Nurse Boy promises me that I can just call the Urgent Care this morning and they will call in a new script. HA! HA! No such luck. Oh, no. They wanted me to come in again. I tried to politely argue. Still no. Then I thought I just might cry, so I abruptly got off of the phone.

You see. I am THAT patient...to them.

Long story short (too late for that), Nurse Boy fixed the problem and I HAVE MY Z PAC!

The golf ball already feels like a grape. Here's hoping my little pink pills do the trick!

7 comments:

Sir Nottaguy-Imadad said...

Crabby,Cranky, Sick, Tired, Wimpy, Demanding and Impatient. Those sound like the seven dwarves in a much darker version of the story. (Disney already included Grumpy)

Glad to hear that you're beginning to feel better.

Mr. and Mrs. Nurse Boy said...

The quote is, "I thought I just might cry." When she called me this morning that was not just might crying. Those were tears. It is nice to have an inn with some doctors. By the way, the Mrs. talks about Sweet Pea and I laughing at her. Well, she is that patient. The doctor asks her to say AHHHHH in hopes of seeing her throat. I think she said EEEEE, and did not open her mouth.

I love her very much, but it was funny.

Anonymous said...

Sorry you're having such a rough week. Blech! I hope your ZPAC works! Impressed that you're blogging in the middle of it!

Joyce

Boy Mom said...

Poor thing, and on your anniversary weekend, that stinks.

I hate the gag thing too, ohh I hate it. And what is with a doctor, who can look a grown women with children in the face and question her knowledge of her own body.

I once asked my doctor if he had ever had a bladder infection after he triple checked with me to be sure I thought I really had one. His reply, "No."

"Shall I go into the bathroom and shout a stream of obscenities that would make a sailor blush?" I asked.

"I've heard it can cause Torrets syndrome," he said with grace to look sheepish and give me an Rx.

Torrets syndrome indeed, its Doctors treating you like "that Patient" that causes Toretts I say.

Uh hmm, now that my little rant is over I'll just climb off my soapbox and wish you a speedy recovery.

Theresa said...

I understand the "I love MY doctor!" I have to be almost at the verge of dying before I will see anyone but MY doctor! ER/UrgentCare doctors just don't have the relationship to tell me what to do after I've already told them what is wrong with me!!

BTW, are you and Sir Nottaguy-Imadad related?? I promise you, he is THAT patient, also!!!

Mummy McTavish said...

Hi, I'm Mummy McTavish and I'm a Poop on Jelly stalker.

Oh, it feels so much better to get that off my chest.

I've been stalking you on and off for a bit and Boy Mom's post throbbin' on you guys guilted me into coming over and outing myself.

Hope your throat is all clear soon. Mummy with a sore throat is not a happy time at all.

Chris said...

Boo to your doctor!! Yay to Mr Nurseboy!! How the heck did they even expect you to swallow gigantic pills with such a massive "thing" in your throat? Hope your new meds are still working their magic.