The light at the end of the tunnel

That'll teach me to criticise Swedish doctors. It will teach me in a pedagogic, understanding, turn-the-other-cheek way. My doctor is the nicest doctor I've ever met, like someone's friendly old grandpa or Santa Claus. Not only did he give me antibiotics for respiratory tract infection and sinusitis (thank you Santa!), he also had a look at my knee. He wanted to prescribe a Cortisol nose spray too, but I think I'll be ok with the prescription-free stuff. I'm not a big fan of taking medication (I'd rather let my body fight its battles by itself as much as possible), but boy was I glad that he gave me antibiotics. I want to get rid of this debilitating infection, now. And now I have an army of next-to-invisible little dudes to help me.

I haven't posted a photo on this blog in ages. Here's what I dream about when I'm lost in the mists of fever.

The doctor couldn't find any serious problems with my knee. He twisted it this way and that, and said that it was good that it didn't hurt. He thought I can run on if it doesn't hurt, but that I should stop immediately if it starts hurting. I suppose there is an upside with this illness. My knee gets lots of rest. Now if only my face didn't hurt like 5 morbidly obese elephants were jumping up and down on it...