Oh, I so feel your pain. Glad you got it taken care of.
Since we're on the subject, please permit me to rant at length about my experiences with campus health care and peritonsillar abcesses. Warning, gross detail involved.
[RANT]
One chilly October morning, I woke up with a sore throat. I didn't think too much of it since at least half the people I knew were sick. By the end of that day, however, it had progressed to the worst sore throat I had ever had in my whole life. Half my throat was swollen and there was a big ol' white patch about the size of a nickel on my right tonsil. Checked my temp and it was 102. I called the campus health clinic and got an appointment for the next morning. When I got there, they had me see a nurse. (Disclaimer: I am a nurse. I have nothing against nurses in general. This one, however, gives the entire profession a bad name.) This nurse looks in my throat and tells me it's probably viral, I should just go home and take some tylenol. I am uncomfortable with this assessment and ask for a rapid strep. He says, we don't do those here, they're too expensive and 99% of the time, it's not strep. I say I want a throat culture, at the very least. He hems and haws and says "I really don't think it's strep, your throat is just a little red." I say, incredulously, "I have a fever of 102 and a giant patch of exudate on my right tonsil, did you miss that? I want a culture to rule out strep." He finally agrees and proceeds to culture the roof of my mouth instead of my throat. I tell him that he missed my tonsil completely. He says that he doesn't have to be right on the spot. I tell him that I know that but somewhere in the oropharynx would have been nice. By this time I am just incensed and I decide to leave.
Of course, I have a secret weapon. My boyfriend, the MD. He has a hard rule about not treating family and friends but when I told him this story he went ballistic and came over to see me. He takes one look at my throat and tells me that I am developing a peritonsillar abcess (no wonder it hurt so fricking much, I had been thinking I was just a big crybaby). He also confirms that my throat looks like a textbook case of strep and that I need to go back and get a referral to an ENT.
So back to the clinic I traipse and refuse to leave until I have seen an actual physician who will provide me with a referral over to ENT. I get a very nice lady who looks in my mouth and says wow, yeah, you should get over there. So I go over to the hospital and get seen by an ENT resident who tells me that the abcess is not pointing enough for him to be comfortable doing percutaneous drainage, so he's going to start me on augmentin and hope for the best. For the first time in my entire life, I break down and ask the guy for pain meds. He looks at me like I am nuts and tells me to take ibuprofen. I burst into tears and tell him that I have been and it's just not working. He gives this big, exaggerated sigh, and writes me a script for 6 Vicodin. Gee, thanks, buddy! (Of course, I get home, take them, and promptly puke, which was no fun at all, but still.)
The antibiotics work, the abcess disappears, and I am left sadder and wiser. And also paranoid every time I start to feel my throat get a little scratchy, which happens about 4 times that winter.
Come March, I get another massive sore throat, fever, horrifying pain, etc. Interestingly enough, it's on the other side as the last time. Looking in the mirror, I can see that my tonsil is so swollen that my uvula is deviated over to the other side. Whoopee, here we go again! Over to the clinic. They want me to see a nurse. I tell them that I don't fricking think so, and I see a doctor. Doctor looks in my throat and actually lets out a "damn!". This time the clinic calls a cab to take me over to the hospital, on their dime (thanks for that!). See an ENT resident (a different guy) who decides it's time for a little percutaneous drainage (needle aspiration). He leaves to go get some supplies, comes back after about twenty minutes, and says ok, let's go! He hands me my very own suction catheter to hold inside my mouth and gets to work. First of all, let me just say "OWWWWWWWW!" This was not made any better by the fact that I had been up all night because of the pain and had amused myself by reading everything that could go wrong with this procedure, including him hitting the carotid artery. I was less than comfortable with the lack of any airway protection or, you know, other staff within earshot, but, what the hell. I got a little more nervous when I saw him get out a scalpel and go in with that, but everything seemed to go ok and he finally got a syringe full of icky pus out. I, once again, ask for pain meds. He tells me that I shouldn't need them and that he's going to put me on antibiotics and some steroids for a few days to decrease the general inflammation in the area. OK, whatever.
Things got a little better, but the pain was still there even though the swelling had reduced considerably. I called the ENT clinic to inquire about this and they tell me it's normal (in a tone of voice that screams CRYBABY!). My steroids stopped 2 days before a massive ochem exam. I was working on a research project in my lab with my PI(where I had just started) and I had that and classes from 8 am to 8 pm. About noonish I start to realize that something is very, very wrong. I'm coughing when I try to swallow and my voice has gone all funny (apparently this is called hot potato voice). But, being the hardworking premed that I am, I soldier on. (Developed the most beautiful Western, but I digress.) The pain is so bad I'm not even thinking straight anymore. Finally, the TA for my bio lab sends me home from lab because I look like such utter crap. My tonsil is now swollen even worse than it was when I went in initially.
At this point, I should have gone to the ER. Unfortunately, my mind was not working so well and all I could think about was my ochem exam the next morning. What good I though studying was going to do me I have no idea, but I sat down with my notes and went through them until about midnight. (My boyfriend, incidentally, was about ready to physically drag me to the ER but I pleaded and cried and promised I would go immediately after the exam.) The pain finally got to me and I decided to go to bed and see if I could at least get a little sleep. As I lay down, I coughed and felt this hugely intense pain and got the worst taste ever in my mouth. I got up and ran to the bathroom and looked in my throat. A river of pus was running out of the abcess. On the plus side, I started to feel better almost immediately. I went to bed and conked out until my alarm went off for me to go take the ochem exam.
Went to the ENT clinic for followup. The resident was like, "Oh, wow, yeah, that happens sometimes." I asked about the advisability of a tonsillectomy. He said, "Well, since they weren't on the same side, it was probably just coincidence. You should be fine now."
Needless to say, I went to the ENT in my town later(paying hugely since he's out of network) and he was incredulous. He scheduled me for a tonsillectomy after the semester was over. I can tell you that everything they say about adult tonsillectomies is true and then some.
[/RANT]
Thanks for listening, I still get pissed off whenever I think about it.
Moral of the story: Don't be afraid to push for what you think you need. If you have to go elsewhere, do it. Just because you had your abcess drained doesn't mean that the story is over. The tonsillectomy was bad, but knowing that I never have to go through that again is priceless.
