(My alternate title was “Kiss me! I’m contagious!”)
Yes, I finally got sick and tired of being sick and tired and went to the doctor for this cough. After he examined my four humors, he prescribed a good dose of leeches and sent me off.
So, now I’m a little poorer and no better, but at least I know that I might have acute bronchitis and 5 days worth of antibiotics to take, and that am contributing to the overuse of such drugs (see, The Merck Manuals) and that I probably would have been fine if I had let it go another week.
It is true that, as the title suggests, I have been pretty successful at avoiding all contact with the medical profession. I have only seen a doctor three times in my adult life. Once was 12 years ago when I got a nasty ear infection. I went to an ENT specialist who apparently had a reputation for screwing things up, because I wound up going to another doctor to get a cure for his cure. The other time was 25 or so years ago when I burned my hand working at McDonald’s and had to go to the emergency room.
Tune in next week to see if I’m over this hacking or if I really do have the black plague.