Thursday, April 28, 2011


A couple days ago I noticed a weird red spot on my back. It was slightly itchy, so I figured it was just a bug bite. Then it started to hurt yesterday and I thought it was a pimple so I kept putting acne goo on it. Then I made the mistake of asking my mom to look at it last night when I was home and she spent about ten mintues poking and proding it and I kept fidgeting - it was terrible. I get queasy over most things that have to do with my body.

So, I mentioned it to my sister this morning and then she looked at it. Freaked out and told me to go see a doctor, just to make sure it wasn't a staph infection. I spent the following twenty minutes looking at pictures of staph infections (you're welcome!).

"Are you sure you're going to be okay at the doctor's alone?" My sister has no faith in me. "Because you know, they lance it and then they squeeze it and rub a cotton swab in there..."

"Amanda, I'm happy to go with you... you really don't handle these things very well." My mom doesn't have any faith in me either.

I didn't have an appointment and they weren't able to see me, so I went to the emergency room at Fort Belvoir (because my dad's a retired Marine and I'm still on their insurance). There, a doctor did exactly what my mom did, but with needles. And I didn't scream. Or cry.

"I don't think it's staph, yet, it's probably just a boil, but we're gonna treat it for MRSA anyway." That's cool, I guess. "It still might get worse, but just see your primary physician if it does, but it's probably not a big deal."

Yep. Totally not a big deal. Or it could be. I'm not gonna worry about it.

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