A few of you senior readers might recognize the subject from a great series of movies called ‘Lethal Weapon,’ featuring Danny Glover and Mel Gibson. I now know what Danny Glover’s character means when he says, “I’m too old for this sh*t!”
For some reason, I have always been a magnet for a sore throat or strep, as it is known in the medical world. The fancy Latin name is streptococcal pharyngitis. Sure, a sore throat could also be an evil cold that has settled on the back of your throat.
Common symptoms include sore throat, fever, and swollen lymph nodes in the neck. Rarely, complications can involve the heart or kidneys.
Mayo Clinic
I’m by no means a specialist in this area, but I have had strep more times than I like to remember. To a point where a few doctors have recommended removing my tonsils. While it might sound appealing, I do not particularly want some large fingers and lasers in my mouth, although eating ice cream for a few days is a big selling point.
My throat usually starts with a little soreness, then it turns red, and then it starts to close up. It hurts when I swallow food, but I have no other body symptoms like fever or coughing—just a bloody sore throat.
Since my heart journey, any little change to my health still freaks me out. Anxiety levels spike throughout the day. My body seems more fragile and sensitive to these bacterial attacks – or it might just be my mind playing games. Not the best game to play in our mind.
I never went down the tonsil removal road. I have too many memories of my tonsils, and unless they are causing regular havoc and danger to my health, I might as well keep them in the family.
I had strep last year; long story short, just as the fecking Corona (COVID-19) had circled the World, and the lockdowns were starting. Not the best timing, but infections don’t care. Selfish bastard virus!
Last year, my doctor kindly prescribed me antibiotics, amoxicillin (aka Amoxil among the cool kids). Within a few days, the antibiotics kill off the bacteria, and your throat is finally feeling good again.
Fast forward to a year later, almost the anniversary date of when COVID killed the mood and impacted millions of families overnight. Shit is brewing again!
Earlier this week, my throat started to act up again. It was a little sore, and I could feel it getting a little tighter when swallowing food. I knew something was brewing and decided to nip it in the bud before it evolved into a strep mutation and contacted my doctor – virtual visit, of course.
As a precaution, he prescribed antibiotics, and I would visit the clinic the following morning to get my throat swabbed. It is not a pleasant feeling to get the back of your mouth swabbed. You can’t help it and start gagging as the cotton tip collects bacteria samples.
During the virtual consultation, I did mention that I am considering getting my tonsil removed. I’m tired of getting these flare-ups, and it is time to part ways.
The doctor kindly responded to my tonsil suggestion “It is not recommended at your age!“
Damn, that hit hard. I’m not even 50 yet, and I feel awesome. Surely the tonsil removal procedure is not that dangerous. Or is it just a waste of resources to do some simple surgery?
It was a slap in the face that I’m mortal and getting old. I thought Vikings live forever, or perhaps I misunderstood the journey across the Bifrost to Valhalla. I guess it is not a real bridge to some pub.
I laughed it off and went to bed before 9.45 pm. I am getting old after all and need to wake up at 5.30 am to get my kids ready for a school bus that arrives at 6.30 am. It’s not easy getting old!