Berlin Bacteria Bite Back

Last week, inexplicably, I woke up with tonsillitis. I'd say it was attributable to a plethora of things- probably namely because, in the aftermath of my 30th birthday celebrations, my body decided to just 'check-out' for a while. Malnourishment, lack of sleep, too much beer (though actually, beer consumption volumes were even compromised due to financial strain...). All factors culminated in a strange tonsil metamorphosis into two curious giant white oysters. 

Two white oysters - kinda cute, aint they?

Each time I swallowed, it felt as though millions of tiny little knife-yielding people were sliding down my throat with their knives drawn. The angry little people would ride the giant wave of blood down into my stomach, laughing as they heard my silent sobbing echo in my thorax. Suffice to say, the pain was intolerable. There was no question that I required urgent medical attention. This, being Germany, meant that I had to snap out of my self-wallowing entrenchment, jump out of bed, get dressed, put on my best German speaking suit, and make a telephone call. Not such a big deal, you might think? But you’d be surprised just how hard these simple things turn out to be, particularly when in a state of crisis. So I called my doctor. AND YES, after only 8 months living in Berlin, I already have a doctor. I happen to be prone to weird and unsavoury ailments after having relocated to the other side of the world. Last month I had an eye infection!! What the fuck? ...I guess my body is just freaking out, bombarded by an entirely new assortment of disease causing pathogens. 

So, I called my doctor, spoke entirely in German with the lass on the phone, only to discover there were no appointments available until the following week. A little taken aback, I almost self-consciously asked, “aber, es ist dringend?” (but, it is urgent?), to which she replied that I should visit the practice the next morning between 9am and 1pm for the urgent, non-appointment slots. So, I guess at this point I should have been thankful that there was no blood gushing out of any arteries! 

As a result, I thought it wise to venture to the Apotheke (Pharmacist) to try to get my hot little hands on some gooooood meds in the interim. HAH! I must have been slightly delusional- I already knew that this is Germany, and in Germany, although they produce most of the worlds drugs (home to some of the biggest Pharmaceutical companies that exist), ironically enough, they seem to export all of the good stuff straight back out of the country and opt instead for more natural remedies. After a rewarding little German back-and-forth exchange with the lass in the chemist (I do love to speak my German wherever possible!), I left with the advice that, there was no question- if my tonsils looked the way that they did, I required medical attention (it was clearly a bacterial infection, which meant a(nother!) coarse of antibiotics). She’d also recommended some ‘Natural drops’ she’d thought would do a great deal to hold the pain at bay until such time as I managed to see the doctor. So, homeward bound I went, equipped with my magic juice (salbeiöl, eucalyptusöl, pfefferminzöl, zimtöl, nelkenöl, fenchelöl, sternanisöl, levomenthol, thymol, i.e. sage oil, eucalyptus oil, peppermint oil, cinnamon oil, clove oil, fennel oil, star anise, i.e. a bucket-load of natural BULLSHIT). 

Natur und Wissenschaft?

I stopped at the shops to buy some vegetables to cram down into my body, and then I dragged my feet home, trying to figure out just how I was going to tell my work that I would not be at the ‘lab-warming party’ the next day, and how in the hell I was going to be fit enough to make Dresden the day after that! My good friend, Fine, had bought me train tickets to Dresden for my birthday present. 

Sweet, handmade birthday card from Fine

So, all I could really do was have a relatively early night, eat as many veggies as I could stomach and will my body better. Oh yes, and gargle that ‘natural remedy’ recommended by the chemist. Pfft! Laughable. My good, tough, Lithuanian friend Inga came around that evening so I could dye her hair-roots. I’d asked her what her and her ‘Lithuan’ people would do when faced with such an ailment, and, hoping she was going to advise with the utmost Eastern European confidence ‘drink vodka’, I was very disappointed when she told me they would drink tea... So, choosing to ignore that advice, I requested she pick me up a bottle of vodka anyway. After dinner, hair-dying and vodka consumption, I collapsed into bed, vodka in hand, and proceeded to have the worst night’s sleep of my life. 

'Wodka' Gorbatschow

The next morning, times were just as tough, albeit even more fatigued. I rolled out of bed and to the doctor’s clinic where I was finally seen by a magical looking German man dressed in white. Curiously, the room was filled with fresh-flowers and tacky artwork. There was, somehow, a strange sense of attending my own funeral, the smell of flowers overwhelming and sickening. But, nonetheless, it was refreshing to hear the doctor’s viewpoint that it was compulsory that I pump myself full with as many drugs as possible. I agreed wholeheartedly with this, even begging that he jab my arse with a penicillin injection for a more speedy recovery. He was, by no means, against the idea, however the practicality of that route would have meant a daily re-dose and therefore visit back to the clinic. So I reluctantly took the oral antibiotics alternative... And again, went home and ate 1000 oranges.

Mmmmuch better! 1000mg!

Surprisingly, after a mind-blowingly horribly long onset of antibiotic efficacy the last time I had tonsillitis, the next morning I was in much better spirits. It seemed the stronger 1000mg of Amoxicillin-Trihydrat was doing the trick! Hallelujah! Just in time for my weekend in Dresden.