Hello, Tonsils
You never appreciate your tonsils until they swell to the size of basketballs and scream, "Hey! Hey! REMEMBER US?"
Day 14 of the Mystery Illness finds it no longer a mystery. Actually, Day 11 did that. On Day 11, your ailing host decided to get a second opinion at a different clinic and was diagnosed with mononucleosis. (Note to Dr. Kangaroo: Told you so.) Day 14 marked a rapid decline in condition, probably best exemplified by the time when I woke up, panicking at 4:30 in the morning with the sudden sensation that, oh, wait, I can't breathe. My nose was stuffed up and my throat swollen nearly closed. After willing myself to relax and expelling some of the more problematic throat-goo, I managed to let the fatigue take over and fell back asleep.
My mother came to rouse me at about 1:30. I complained of this horrific new throat problem. She immediately convinced me to bundle up and head off to a doctor friend's for an unofficial examination. Doctor Friend poked my belly, prodded my throat, and stuck a flashlight down my gullet. Definitely mono, he concluded, now making my diagnosis two out of three, but at least in the final stages. Prescription: no work for at least 5 more days, bed rest, fluids, and any and as much food as I can convince my appetite-devoid body to accept.
That said, though, I took a look at this horrid, horrid throat tonight, and it's completely bizarre to see one's uvula touching one's tonsil. Particularly when both your tonsils are bright red, absolutely massive, and covered with little white pus-filled blisters.
My throat looks like the pictures on doctor's office posters of various STDs.
Day 14 of the Mystery Illness finds it no longer a mystery. Actually, Day 11 did that. On Day 11, your ailing host decided to get a second opinion at a different clinic and was diagnosed with mononucleosis. (Note to Dr. Kangaroo: Told you so.) Day 14 marked a rapid decline in condition, probably best exemplified by the time when I woke up, panicking at 4:30 in the morning with the sudden sensation that, oh, wait, I can't breathe. My nose was stuffed up and my throat swollen nearly closed. After willing myself to relax and expelling some of the more problematic throat-goo, I managed to let the fatigue take over and fell back asleep.
My mother came to rouse me at about 1:30. I complained of this horrific new throat problem. She immediately convinced me to bundle up and head off to a doctor friend's for an unofficial examination. Doctor Friend poked my belly, prodded my throat, and stuck a flashlight down my gullet. Definitely mono, he concluded, now making my diagnosis two out of three, but at least in the final stages. Prescription: no work for at least 5 more days, bed rest, fluids, and any and as much food as I can convince my appetite-devoid body to accept.
That said, though, I took a look at this horrid, horrid throat tonight, and it's completely bizarre to see one's uvula touching one's tonsil. Particularly when both your tonsils are bright red, absolutely massive, and covered with little white pus-filled blisters.
My throat looks like the pictures on doctor's office posters of various STDs.
Labels: sickness
posted by Allison at
8:43 PM
2 Comments:
Holy crap. I'm glad you're.. hmm.. "okay" doesn't seem to be the appropriate word here. Also, I'm impressed that you know the day count for how long you're sick. I'm usually too busy ringing my bell to beckon for liquid and moaning over how horrible my runny nose is making the rest of my face feel.
And whoa.. thank you for that horrifying image at the end there. I may never sleep again.
Yeah, the pus was pretty hot, let me assure you. Can't keep my boyfriend's hands off me. Well, as long as he's wearing his HazMat suit and his oven mitts. (He actually told me, his poor dying girlfriend, that the only way I was going to get a kiss good night was if I put a plastic bag over my head, but that's another matter entirely--one that ends with me jamming a thermometer into his left pupil.)
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