when is a cold not acute bronchitis?

When it's drug-resistant bronchitis/tonsilitis/uri.

(You don't have to read any further. I'm going to be fine. What follows is a tedious re-telling of today's visit to the doctor; a story every sickie tells and no one really wants to hear...)

Yep. I saw the good doctor that I saw in December today. Dr. V is great. He listens to everything you say. In English. He asks questions. I always go in to the doctor a little apologetic, feeling like I should just tough it out. This visit was no different, especially since my major complaint was that I just didn't feel better. (And I had a new fever.) But, Dr. V didn't tell me to tough it out. He was a bit cross with Dr. Peach Oil (snake oil is more like it), said my temp was elevated, my white cells were up in Monday's bloodwork and it was clear from the white stuff and pus in my throat that I had tonsilitis. Kinda wonder about an ENT who misses that. Kinda wonder about the silver tongue depressor he used (instead of the individually-wrapped wooden ones)...and how sterile it was. Told Dr. V on him just in case he cross-infected me.

After a thorough exam, Dr. V did blood work (nach) and came in mid-result and hooked me up to an IV of antibiotics. My white cells are high and my new white cells are very high. (My poor little soldiers are being slaughtered. The new troops are pouring in to help.) I've had antibiotic shots in the US but never an antibiotic IV. I've never had any IV. This took about an hour. I was paranoid that the nurse wouldn't come back before the line was completely empty and I'd die from an air bubble. I tried calling out when the bag was empty and what was left in the line started sucking its way into me, but no one came. There was no call button. I decided if it got to halfway, I'd take the IV pole and go find someone. (Give me a break. I'm sick. I'm feverish. And I'm new at this IV thing. And, you'll find another reason for heightened paranoia in the final parenthetical expression.) It nearly did, but the nurse arrived in time. My other option was to pull the line out myself. I'm sure it would've hurt...but at least I'd still be alive.

Dr. V sent me home with a new anitbiotic, tablets to keep my good bacteria intact, and instructions to rest for three days. He also gave me strict instructions to call if I don't feel better by then, made an appointment to see me in a week, and started a throat culture just in case these antibiotics don't work.

I am feeling in very capable hands. Lesson learned: no more Dr. PO. PO is too close to poo.

(I know. Tedium. But this is all I'm doing...except re-watching X-files in order. The truth is out there.)