A few months back I had my wisdom teeth removed. Lucky me.
Actually I was lucky, I was one of those people who was in no pain before having them removed, nor did I have a great amount of pain afterwards. I had no bruising, no mangled looking face, and no horror stories to tell. The most horrific part of the surgery was when they made me lay on a bed in the waiting area for an hour, without being able to browse the internet on my iPhone...they didn't even give me a trashy mag to read!
Oh, and there was my bung eye that kept rolling backwards after I came out...husband found this to be extremely funny.
But, anyway, there is more to this story. Despite my luckiness with the surgery, afterwards I was not so lovely. I lost sensory feeling in my hands. I could pat the doormat and it would feel as soft as silk. And then my skin peeled off my hands and feet. It was like I was severely sunburnt with blisters, but no blisters, just the peeling skin. I shed my skin for 3 weeks.
Fearing this was not normal, seeing as though this was the second time it had happened in 6 months (what can I say, I like the food they give you in hospital), I headed off to my GP. Now, one of the jots of living in a small town is that GP's never seem to stick around for very long. We are close enough to the city that they can find other jobs, but far enough out that it classifies as their 'country service'. Alas I see a new doctor just about every time I go to the clinic.
The doctor I saw was, different, to put it politely. I was the first appointment of the day, yet I did not get seen until an hour after my appointment. The reason: she had got confused on what patients she was meant to be seeing, and was seeing all the triage patients first...despite not being the triage doctor that day! (I was pissed off that some sniffling drugged off their head moron got in before me, so it clouded my judgment a bit).
So anyway, I explain my case to her and tell her that I want to have a skin allergy test done. She looks at me blankly. Fearing that her ethnicity might be proving a communication barrier, I explain an allergy test to her. She (rudely) tells me 'she knows what an allergy test is, but doesn't understand why I want one'. Her diagnosis was "to not take antibiotics for the rest of my life".
Righto, this is where the nice pleasant April disappears, and the cranky one appears. I am seething. I am 24, and pretty darn sure I will need to take antibiotics in the next 60 odd years. I ask for another doctors opinion about the allergy testing. Another doctor agrees, and writes me a referral. Off I troddle, still seething, especially as it cost me $60 for her diagnosis.
Anyway, today I went for my skin test. Turns out I am allergic to penicillin. Sure as hell glad I found that out before I was dead