All's well that ends well

So apparently I wasn't just a little sick last week, nope, apparently I had the flu. I can't even remember the last time I had that, but there you have it. Just like everything else I attempt in life, I even have to achieve something impressive when I get sick. I can't just lie on the couch and be miserable for a few days, oh no. I need temperatures around 103, sleepless nights, hot flashes, freezing hands, a cough that sounds like a pack and a half per day, and a good old case of Influenza to feel like I matter.

Personally, however, I wouldn't have dragged myself to the doctor at all. I am the kind who prefers to wallow in her misery (OK, fine, snot) before seeing a health care professional. But when, after three days, my fever wasn't breaking, husband-dear convinced me to go. Was it his worries over my health that sent me driving halfway across town? Or perhaps did his reasoning about long-lasting fevers being unhealthy do the trick? Lord, no. The argument that finally convinced me was that if I didn't see a doctor, I wouldn't be going to back work in the near future. I know, I have issues.

So off to the doctor I went, expecting to be given the full-on Dutch treatment and sent home. For those of you fortunate enough to not know what a Dutch treatment is, allow me to digress. Dutch doctors, and Dutch health care in general, are founded on the concept of even aankijken, or "looking at something for a while", i.e., letting a flu/rash/sore throat/nose/chest congestion run its course for a few days to see if it gets worse or magically heals itself. This means that when you call to make an appointment, a chipper receptionist will ask you how long you've had said ailment, and, as every Dutch person knows, if it hasn't been for at least three days, she'll briskly tell you to call back in a few days for an appointment. Now let's say that you do meet the magical three-day requirement, and get in to see the dokter, that's no guarantee he or she will actually do anything about it. If you have the flu, they will in most cases send you home with the admonition to get back into bed and drink lots of fluids. If you have a cold, you will be told to use a neti pot (stomen), and so on. Basically, unless you're bleeding, suffering from a clear bacterial invasion, pregnant, very old or very young, Dutch dokters prefer to let nature run its course.

Hence, I expected my doctor here in Georgia to tell me to take it easy, drink lots of water, and take an ibuprofen if the fever got above 102.

Well, Dorothy, you're really not in Holland anymore. In fact, you've left the land of unlimited sick leave, bosses telling you to stay home and just rest up, and insurance companies rewarding doctors for prescribing as few drugs as possible, you've left that land far, far, far behind you. Because here in the US, doctors apparently run a little nose swab test to see if you have the flu, before they even come in and talk to you. And when you have the flu, as I did, they will not only prescribe something for your gut-wrenching cough and your stuffy nose, they will also prescribe the miracle drug of all drugs, the drug that in Holland is only prescribed in cases of flu strains referred to by numbers and letters, but that will make you feel better within 48 hours: Tamiflu.

So although I've been a little shaky, and have yet to pick up my running again, I've been feeling like a new person these past two days. I went back to work yesterday, and couldn't have been happier. No more freak temperatures, no more chills, hot flashes, and aches and pains. It's been awesome. And just in time for the final stretch too. What more could a person want?