(Being home sick means baking a cake, which also means strawberry milkshakes and warm slices of lemon pound cake for lunch.)
We have our first ever case of strep throat. For some twisted reason this feels like a victory to me. I remember enduring throat culture after wretched, shaky throat culture when I was a kid, each and every time I had the slightest sore throat (and sometimes even when I didn't) only to hear, "Well, it's not strep." when Dr. McFalls returned to the exam room. I can remember wanting to glare daggers at him and his Mr. Rogers lookalike self, but being too polite to actually do so. I saved my tears for the car ride home, "I TOLD you I didn't even have a sore throat!! (sob)". However I may be feeling about finally having an official diagnosis, Ada - the actual patient in this scenario - is less than thrilled. This was only her second throat culture so in my book she got pretty lucky to actually catch something that the doctors can fix, instead of your run of the mill, wait and see, cold. Of course I don't want my sweet child to have strep throat - its horribly painful. I don't know why I feel this competitive about the throat culture thing. I hated them with a fiery hate. Most of all I hated that they were always negative and therefore an unnecessary torture device of my youth. It seems almost worth it to get a positive culture. Bravo Ada on braving the gaggy swab thing and coming home with a ten day supply of amoxicillin.