I hate being sick. The whole staying up all night because I can’t breath, no bueno. On Saturday night I told Daniel I felt like I was getting sick. By midnight I was full fledged, I want to die, ill. My throat was raw and sore. It hurt to swallow my own saliva. Even talking strained my throat to the point of wanting to cry. It was miserable.
Daniel offered to take me to the hospital at about three when I broke down and actually started crying (which only lasted a minute because even that hurt too bad). I calmed down and declined, I could suck it up until the morning, when normal places opened.
Turns out on Sunday the only places open are the hospital and insta-care clinics. We opted for the clinic (probably our first mistake).
After what seemed like ages getting the insurance stuff figured out, getting my vitals, and sitting on the uncomfortable chair in the patient room, the doctor finally came in. He asked me all the questions the nurse had just asked me 20 minutes before, and then proceeded to tell me that my strep test came back negative. “So”, he said, “you are definitely sick, but that’s about all I can tell you”
Useless. Thank goodness I was double insured or I would have flipped out after paying 40 dollars and having a doctor tell me exactly what I already knew. I’m sooo glad he was there to state the obvious.
That being said he prescribed me a cough medicine, to help with the pain. And sent me on my way. (For the record, coughing was not one of my symptoms.)
So I leave pretty ticked to have wasted my time with this doctor, and went to fill my prescription… $32 later and an even deeper disdain for insurance companies, I had my hydromet syrup.
I took the prescribed two teaspoons and was out cold! Like dead cold!
Six hours later when I finally came to, I read the drug info pamphlet. I should have known something was up when the doctor asked me what medicines I got after I had my baby. When I told him I just had Motrin in the hospital, he didn’t believe me. Turns out my fantastic doctor had prescribed me hydrocodone and homoatropine, a narcotic cough suppressant.
No wonder it knocked me out! Well as good as it made me feel,(being all drugged up and whatnot) I didn’t like the idea that all it was doing was masking the symptoms and making me dopey. Me and hardcore drugs just don’t mix. So I opted for ibuprofen last night, instead of my narcotic drug. While my sleep wasn’t quite as deep, I feel a lot better today than I did yesterday, and I can actually do something else besides sleep!
Moral of the story? No matter how sick you think you are, going to a doctor at an insta-care clinic will probably prove to be more useless than helpful. Take some ibuprofen and deal.
Silver lining? I got spoiled by Daniel, we’re talking chicken broth, tissues, baby duty, water, pillow fluffing… the works! Annnnd I came to find out that Baby Carter missed that I wasn’t the one taking care of him all day!