This town needs more 24-hour clinics.
I am fortunate enough to have access to one a very short drive from home. You'll never know when you suddenly need to get an ailment looked at after-hours, which was exactly the case for me last night.
I've been on a liquid diet for the past couple of days because it hurts really bad whenever I swallow. I'm currently recovering from an infection which had me shivering under the covers despite the fact that I was clocking in nearly 39 degrees on the thermometer. Muscular aches, headaches, weakness, loss of appetite--the whole shebang. Surprisingly enough, no flu-like symptoms. No runny nose, sneezing or the sniffles. Just one hell of an elevated temperature and pain whenever I move. I'm the third one in the household to get this after my grandmother and my mother, all in the span of a single week.
The idiot that I am, I went to work anyway. Much to take care of before I officially leave the organization. Being stationed at the beachside property means I will never make it to my family GP in time before he closes up for the day, so I decided to go to one of the 24-hour establishments.
The diagnosis? I've got swollen lymph nodes -- which is totally expected -- and very inflamed tonsils. Yes, my tonsils are the culprits behind the painful swallowing. Well, not exactly. The infection I'm currently recovering from has caused the inflammation of my tonsils, which in turn gave me one hell of a bad day because I couldn't freaking eat.
So now I'm on a course of antibiotics and (thankfully) stronger analgesic medication than my usual paracetamol, which leaves me pretty doped up and zombiefied over here at work. Zero occupancy, though. Today is my lucky day.
Pain, pain, go away. Come again another day. No, wait. Don't come back, like, ever.
Sigh. I'm craving spaghetti.
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