Steps To Take When You are a Sick Adult

I realize now that this title could be interpreted in a multitude of ways, but how I meant it was: what to do when you fall ill and you have just moved to NYC (I could have used that as the title but it is just so long)

I woke up the other day with a sore throat. I realized it could have been a multitude of things: talking loudly, eating coconut (even though it makes my throat scratchy) or scream singing in the shower. I realized shortly after that that this was no usual sore throat but the mother of all sore throats. Yes, the big kahuna of upper respiratory illness- I thought I had strep. I then saw a commercial about spider bites and remembered at the same time my sore throat came up that I got a bug bite on my cheek. After Web MDing for a few hours I figured it was either death by Brown Recluse bite or strep. Either way I needed to see a Doctor. 

Then I was faced with the task of finding said Dr. Where do I go? Who do I see? Should I use yelp? The last option seemed like the best option because since moving to the city I have used yelp for literally everything from Chinese food to where to buy good soap. I found a place called City MD and after inputting it into my maps and getting dressed in my finest sweatpants I set off on my quest. 

I had a set route on how to get there but mid subway ride I realized where this City MD actually was. Conveniently located next to the happiest place on earth- Times Square! Perfect, I realized, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world on a rainy February morning when I felt like death then there. I shuffled through TS trying desperately not to make eye contact with the life size minions or the Micky Mouse with weird giant eyes. (You know I think sometimes they make those mascots creepy on purpose. They want you be afraid of them, and I still have not figured out why but when I do I will let you know.) I had made it out alive and after mistakingly walking into a *very* nice burger king thinking it was the place, I found it.  

I wobbled in and the receptionist cheerfully asked me how I was doing. Ah, I thought, that seems like a very sensible question to ask someone who looks like the plague slapped them in the face walking into a health clinic in the middle of the city. I smiled and said ok. Papers were copied, insurance cards were given and then I was sitting on a giant medical throne-like-chair talking to a Doctor who looked like father time. After swabbing my nostrils and throat and asking a multitude of questions he looked at me gravely and confirmed my worst fear- the streptococcus. I whimpered, he assured me only 2% of people die every year from it, gave me a prescription and sent me on my way. 

Laying in my bed a few hours later, chock full of antibiotics and gatorade I looked back on my morning and felt accomplished. I had done it. I had fallen ill in this big bad city, diagnosed myself (my first diagnosis of Dengue Fever was way off) correctly, called my family to make sure I could not have Dengue Fever and then sought out medical attention. I let out a triumphant "yay", followed by a cough and turned on Grease Live. (which I think you all should watch because although it is not the best it's not as bad as I expected). I then realized, thanks to my Dad, that I should have gone back to that Burger King and warned them that I had the streptococcus, but it was too late now and I could only pray that there wouldn't be a strep epidemic throughout all fast food chains because of me. 

**** I would like to give a shout out to the best roomie a gal could ask for Emily Knapp. She made this incredible soup that made me feel 1000x better no lie. Check out her amazing blog: **** <3