We may fool ourselves that we're top of the food chain, but the bacterium have it all over us. Ungrateful bastards. We provide them with "food," a warm place to "live," and protection from meaner bacterium and what do we get as a thanks? Illness.
Clearly these dudes have not evolved enough to know a good deal when they see it.
I'd been feeling a little out of it for two weeks (insert yelling from physician's assistant for letting it go on too long before actually calling a doctor), but had put it down to allergies, overtiredness, or simple overextension of my energy.
On the good front, my shiny new job has made me a pharmaceutical geek. For those that don't know, I'm actually a "medical writer" who deals with this stuff on a daily basis, which means I know more about drugs (including antibiotics) than I ever really wanted to know. So, since I'm knowledge-having about medication (insert me whining that it could be a virus and physician's assistant calmly pointing out that given the amount of water I drink and the vitamins I take, if it was an actual virus, I'd be better now), medical professionals tend to take you more seriously when you come in with a vague diagnosis that boils down to, "I feel like crap. Help me."
Plus medical people get a sense of humor (not a virus, which means the little bastards are throwing a party in my body. ha-ha. very funny.) because they figure you know the real score. Plus you actually get sympathy because they figure you're really sick and not wasting their time (insert comment, "you look pretty awful." gee. thanks.).
So, medication. I must really be sick because I'm feeling a little better than yesterday already after taking a magic pill.