So my guy and I have the crud. We used to get it every January or February. Sometimes twice in one winter. But we haven't had it in quite a long while. Maybe not since we moved down to the sunny coast. But the Tuesday after Christmas, one day after family left to go back north, my guy started feeling punk.
I sympathized and tried not to get within breathing distance. Alas, Friday morning I woke with it, too.
We soldiered on till finally this week, I called my doctor and he called his. His doctor's receptionist gave him an appointment to come in the next day. My doctor's receptionist said sympathetically: "Yes, lots of people have been having this. It usually lasts a couple of weeks, maybe three. No need to come in. There are some over-the-counter medications you can take that might help. Robitussin for coughing, Mucinex..." et cetera.
I panicked. "No need to come in? But I'm coughing like crazy and my head's running buckets."
"Do you have a fever?"
"Does it hurt when you cough?"
"Then you probably don't need to be seen." She paused. "Oh. Wait. I didn't realize how old you were. Maybe it's best you do come in."
I took the appointment for that afternoon gratefully and hung up. Then what she said hit me. Didn't realize how old I was? How OLD I was??? After a few minutes indignation, my better sense prevailed. What does it matter? At least I got in to see her. Even if it was because I'm old.
And the doctor did indeed find it necessary to give me an antibiotic, so I was justified in persisting on seeing her.