The CEO is on antibiotics for the first time since 1992. 500 mg of clarithromycin are right now coursing through my veins, scouring out evil germs and subjecting them to all kinds of indignities before finally dispatching them. With extreme prejudice. That’s how I’m visualizing it anyway.

At the Urgent Care clinic on Hall and Oleson this morning the MD poked his light/magnifying glass deal into my ear. “Goddamn, you are sick. Did that hurt?” “No shit, doctor, and yes. Can I please have some drugs now?” He proceeded to hook me up with a bunch of free samples. Not sure if that is his standard practice or if the CEO just looked poor. I was wearing a sweater I’d acquired the same year I last took antibiotics, so who knows? When the good doctor was describing how to take the drugs I mentioned to him that I was on birth control. He launched into his standard spiel before realizing who he was talking to. I giggled; man, the CEO can be funny. I’m sure the doc tagged my medical record with “PCP addict” and “raging Chlamydia.”

All that aside, the particular Urgent Care facility I visited definitely gets the Kjel.org stamp of approval. I showed up at 9:00. They’d never seen me before, so there was some paperwork to do, some computer inputting, insurance verifiying, etc. Still, by 9:20 I was headed back to the exam room. Nurse weighed me (she made a funny joke about my heavy shoes, God bless her. I’ll kill her last), took blood pressure and symptoms, and by 9:30 the doctor was poking about my headholes. I was outside in the car with free drugs by 9:45. Not bad at all.