This trip was much less exciting than the "Aaaaugh, I almost cut my thumb off!" moment the week before. Basically, I knew I had strep throat, as I have had it just about every other year of my life since I was 5. It produces a certain kind of pain, even, most of the time, a certain kind of taste in the back of my throat. My doctor, however, didn't want to hear it. Yes, I did call on Saturday, but my doctor's office has Saturday hours, so I figured it was reasonable. I told him I had a sore throat and fever, and his response was (imagine a thick Indian accent), "It's probably the flu. Or mono. Either way, drink some fluids and come see us on Monday." Adrian and I spent about 20 seconds deciding that the chance to get better 2 days earlier was worth an extra $20 copay, and off to the MAU we went. Ironically, the wait was much shorter this time (on a Saturday vs. a Tuesday-- bizarre), and the doctor didn't even need to do a strep test to diagnose me. He felt my glands, looked at my tonsils, and declared that I had strep. I actually went home and looked him up. We're joining his practice.
Trip number three was the least eventful but the most painful. Turns out, they anesthetize your finger when putting stitches in, but not when taking them out. I had Lyndon with me, though, and he's already terrified of doctors, so I had to put on a very brave face for his sake, which actually helped me, too. Somehow, faking calm and confidence when you feel anything but, tends to push you a bit more towards the calm and confident side. And singing "This Little Light of Mine" to him helped, too.
As I type this, I'm literally watching the healthy, pink skin peek out from under where the cut used to be. It's my first bandage-free day, and I keep catching myself staring at it, in awe of my body's ability to heal itself and still shocked at the idea that you can sew your skin back together. The past few weeks have been an adventure, to say the least, but I've found myself so grateful for modern medicine and the fact that I have such quick, unrestricted access to it. I know our healthcare system has flaws, but I can't imagine life without it.