The thing about mothers is that, our selves are not high on the list of priorities. Most of our time, thought, and energy is dedicated to taking care of our little ones and our husbands. For example, my kids' hunger usually comes before mine. I prepare their lunches first, however hungry I might be. Granted, sometimes this is partly a selfish act, since, once I sit down to eat, I really don't want to be interrupted with constant pleas for food...

Anyway, when it comes to sickness, it becomes more problematic. A week and a half ago, I came down with a sore throat. Initially, I wanted to blame it on drainage, but I took a quick peek into my throat and saw some bumps along with some redness. "Do you think this is strep?" I asked my husband, who has had strep in the past. After glancing in my mouth, he said, "I don't see much. Does it feel like you are swallowing glass?" 'Hmm,' I thought to myself, ' What would swallowing glass feel like?' I imagined sharp, horrible, scratching pain shooting down my throat. "Well, no." I said. I also did not have signs of fever, so I prescribed myself the regimen of gargling with warm salt water three times a day. At some point during that week, the sore throat was accompanied by large amounts of snot and sinus pressure, reinforcing the opinion that the sore throat was probably not due to strep.

After a fairly miserable week, my throat was finally feeling better and the congestion had mostly cleared up. I thought I was in the clear. Until yesterday. The morning found my glands swollen and my neck stiff, and by bedtime, my throat was starting to rage. Another look past my tongue and I could see nasty white blisters surfacing on my throat and tonsils. I then proceeded to give my husband (who shall remain nameless for this post) a verbal lashing for not taking better care of me... explaining, that since my focus is not on myself, sometimes I need that push to go see a doctor, that sometimes I need someone to tell me to take a load off and rest. "But you're tough and you can handle it," he said. At which point I wanted to give him a bloody nose. I then accused him of having a pathetically low pain tolerance "if this is what you think swallowing glass feels like." Sheesh.

So today, I go to the doctor.