This morning, I looked into the mirror with the sun shining just right and saw a throat that looked as bad as it felt. Now this has been going on a month with the start of a z-pac almost exactly a month ago with the assistance of an oral steroid and other meds for cough which lessened, but did not relieve my symptoms. Actually, I believed the throat was worse than when this escapade started a month ago. That being the case, and the original doc-in-a-box only assisted with tessalon pearls, I decided to try the other doc-in-a-box on the West side of town. I had been there previously (about 4 years ago) and had a good word from my boss. Well, the opening was normal for an office as they tried to verify that they would get paid for providing services. (What a novel concept for the libs in Washington) That done, I was weighed and taken to the exam room where a normal history of the symptoms was rehashed. The doctor came in after a short time and we had a bit of discussion about the possibilities as I had already received an antibiotic and steroids. The plan was to start with 2 weeks of another antibiotic, an injected steroid, if the cough didn’t settle in 3 days, I was to begin an acid reduction med (over the counter) for a week to see if acid reflux was the culprit. If all these measures didn’t provide relief, I was to return for a referral to an ENT for an endoscopy and a chest x-ray which we both admitted up front would show nothing. So the plan was set and the doc left the room. The nurse entered a few minutes later and announced my prescription had arrived and here it is. I looked and noted 14 tablets of an antibiotic for twice a day. Ummm. Excuse me, but this was supposed to be for 2 weeks. “Well, this is normal dosage.” (look) “I’ll go ask.” I hear the doc’s voice around the corner. “Oh, that’s right. It was supposed to be two weeks. I must have just let my hand do the normal writing.” (pause) The nurse returned. OK. I have the prescription here for the two weeks and here’s your instructions. If you are not better in a couple of weeks, come back in for a referral. “Umm. You forgot the PPI (antacid) in three days.”
“Oh yes. I see that here. I can write it in if you want.”
“No. Never mind.”
“All right. I hope you get to feeling better.” And she led towards the door.
“How about the steroid?”
“Oh, that’s right. I knew I was supposed to draw that up. Just a minute. I’ll be back.”
A couple of minutes later, the nurse returned and did the injection appropriately. I left and had to drive towards the pharmacy in wonder of the interactions that had just occurred. I told spouseinbox and received the wonder that I had not requested the syringe to do my own injection. Actually, it would be kind of hard to twist that far for a good shot. Oh well. I may stick with the other doc-in-a-box from now on, even if I disagree with their opinions.

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