Head Like A Hole
or
"I'll Take 'Things That Fall Out of Your Face,' For $175"

Ah, that good ol' fashioned tonsillitis, such a beloved melody from my childhood. If memory serves me right, it goes a lil' something like this:


I woke up on Friday with a twinge of pain in the right side of my neck. A quick palpation revealed an enlarged lymph node. Well, that could be anything. Maybe the air-conditioner was on too high. Maybe I slept with my mouth open. No time to deal with it anyway. Off to work with me!

By Saturday morning, I knew I was in for some real fun. My right tonsil had begun to swell, making swallowing painful. I didn't need to feel my nodes - I could see them bulging through my skin just fine. It's a cold. I'll feel crappy for 2 days, and get over it. I don't need to spend $150 for a doctor's visit. I'll cope just fine. Oh well, no time to deal with it anyway. Take a few asprin, gargle with Listerine, and off to work with me!

On Sunday afternoon, I woke up shivering like a heroin addict. The ghastly fingers of fever ran up and down my limbs. My muscles ached. And my throat! Even my own saliva proved too difficult to swallow. I designated an empty water bottle as my spittoon. Robbed of my speech, I whimpered piteously until my roommates understood my fate. Greg looked down my throat and told me that my tonsils were so swollen, he was concerned for my airway. Indeed, I felt as if my throat might close up at any moment.

I bit the bullet, and went to urgent care.

If I had more political fire in me, this is where I'd rant about how much a capitalist health care system sucks for a commoner like myself. There's no reason why a throat infection should cost $175 dollars to treat, in an otherwise healthy person. I even skipped getting a throat culture to save money.

If only I could figure out how to buy black market antibiotics from Mexico . . . but I digress.

The real reason I wrote this post is to show you some amazing photos of what came out of my tonsils today!

I've been on antibiotics for about 24 hours now. That's long enough to feel some improvement, though I'm still sick as a dog. I managed to get myself in a hot shower. All that steam felt mighty nice, and really helped my throat relax. In fact, it relaxed so much, the pus pockets fell off of my tonsils. (See the diagram at the start of the article, if you don't know what pus pockets I'm talking about.)

Of course I took pictures. I couldn't deny my gentle readers such a spectacle!

First a picture for scale . . .




Here's a macro glamour shot of the one that came off my right tonsil:

Look, you can see the little ridge where it was attached to my headmeats.

And one of the left:

Say "pus sacs!"

Did I mention that both these nuggets of joy smelled like a cadaver? The human body is so charming.


I sorely (HAH!) envy you adults who had your tonsils removed during childhood, under the auspices of your parents' health insurance plan. Please wish me a speedy recovery.



******UPDATE*******

Two more pus sacs fell off a few hours later, only they were half the size of the first set. And then a single long stringy one uncoiled from the right tonsil. And blood. Lots of blood. Just thought you'd all like to know. No, I didn't take a picture.

Yes it does hurt. Thanks for asking. *hack*