First illness of the fall season is upon us. I had such a terrifically sore throat that I went to urgent care to ensure it wasn’t strep (it wasn’t) and it was a great opportunity to observe people at urgent care. The receptionist, as seems to be true of many (all?) healthcare receptionists, was an unsmiling, no-nonsense person who did not waste a single word. When I regretfully informed her that I had forgotten my insurance card, her expression did not change, nor did she say anything at all. I was flipping quickly through the photos on my phone, hoping I’d remembered to photograph the insurance card, and then trying to log in to my online patient portal because surely there’s a copy of my insurance card THERE, when she wordlessly handed me some consent forms, including one that magically had all my insurance information on it.
She was equally charming with the elderly gent who checked in after me. He had to ask her what “DOB” was (date of birth) on the form he was signing. I love that we can all go through this world at roughly the same time, having roughly the same experiences, and still acquire (or not acquire) vastly different stores of information.
I had made an appointment and still sat in the waiting room for 45 minutes. It didn’t seem particularly busy, but maybe they only had one PA on staff. Obviously, I have no idea why anyone else was there, but I was the only person wearing a mask. They did have a helpful box of tissues next to the seat I chose. No trash can, but that’s what pockets are for. The worst part was listening to someone in one of the exam rooms cough so repeatedly and so intensely that it resulted in vomiting. There but for the grace of God, etc.
Modern medicine really is something. The nurse scraped my tonsils with a cotton swab and in fifteen minutes I knew that I was strep, influenza, and RSV negative, but positive for rhinovirus. Because of the online patient portal, I got my results before the PA returned to the room. What a time to be alive. Although it would be nice if technology found a way to collect your sample without jamming a dry stick down your throat.
I always feel a little melodramatic when I show up at the doctor, feeling like death is upon me, and all I have is a stupid old ordinary cold. The PA was very sympathetic, though, and gave me a long, thorough list of all the ways I could address my symptoms. She even handed me a printout with helpful information on it: acetaminophen and ibuprofen for symptom relief, steam inhalation or nasal saline for congestion, practice frequent handwashing.
A friend of mine recommends a cocktail of an antihistamine, pseudoephedrine, zinc, and elderberry. My personal cold survival cocktail involves a ton of ice water, a ton of hot tea, and as much sleep as possible. I also throw in a Benadryl at night, to help me sleep. When I’ve reached the coughing portion of the virus, I typically force myself to mainline cough drops, which I HATE. I hate the flavor, I hate the click of a lozenge against my teeth, I hate the way my tongue goes fuzzy from back-to-back usage. By the time the cold has run its course, I never want to see a cough drop or a mug of green tea ever again.
It’s hard to know which part of a cold is the worst: The runny nose part, where you can’t stray too far from a box of Kleenex because your nose will turn into a faucet at any moment, and you scrape your nostrils raw with all the facial tissue. The sneeze portion, where you are either in the midst of sneezing or are sitting there, eyes watering, pressure building behind your nose, unable to sneeze. Or the cough segment, where your throat has a constant tickle and your abs, head, and neck ache from the effort of forcing air through your airways.
I’ve always been extremely lucky with illnesses. When I was a kid, I think I got sick once or twice a year. Usually a barfing illness in the middle of winter and then a cold or two. It seems like I always had tonsillitis as a kid, which I always thought was the name of an illness but is really just a description of swollen tonsils. In the 80s, it seemed like kids left and right were getting their tonsils out; I still have mine. And it doesn’t really seem to be as much of A Thing these days; at least, I’ve never heard of a single one of my daughter’s classmates getting their tonsils removed. Wait – no, I do know of one kid, who also endured an adenoidectomy. Carla has had strep throat a few times, but her doctor has never mentioned the word “tonsillitis.” I wonder what changed?
My mother advocates for chicken soup as a curative for any illness. Alas, I dislike chicken soup. But I do enjoy curling up in bed with the cat. He would rather be watching squirrels, but once I make it clear that’s not an option, he’ll settle in next to me and purr.
