TALES FROM THE SHIRE

“SMELLS LIKE…”

I was relishing the Monday holiday last week. Knowing I had over estimated what I would get actually get done in one day, I still could get caught up on a few things, if nothing else but sleep.

A bit of a throat itch on Sunday wasn’t a big deal. My flashlight inspection did not net the streaks of strep, so I figured some daytime cold meds in the afternoon followed by some nighttime meds later and a good night’s rest should knock out whatever.

I awoke the next morning with my head in a vise and my throat on fire. I checked my temperature. There was a fever. It was 100. I’m usually in the 96 or 97 range.

Thus began my internal argument over going to the doctor or toughing it out by letting the fever wage war against the germs. If it was strep, I wouldn’t want to not go to the doctor and end up infecting the school. If it wasn’t strep, I’d have spent money for no reason. If it was just a sinus infection, I could ride it out and keep my cash, but would miss a day or so of school. (If you know any teachers, missing school is twice the work.)

 

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