I find having tonsillitis strange. Despite the constant coughing and the occasional phlegm, nothing else seems to happen. Sure, my breathing does seem a bit more restricted than when I’m healthy and not having a panic attack, but most of the time, it’s a minor discomfort a few times every year. Also, it’s easily fixed with luminous pink erythromycin tablets (henceforth known as the pink pills, because I have troubles spelling that word).

In late November, after being given the pink pills once again, my doctor told me to come back in two weeks (after the pills ran out) so he could assess whether or not I needed to have them removed or not.

Two weeks passed, the pink pills depleted, and I forgot about the bits of tissue in the back of my throat for another week.

These tissues appeared to be unhappy about being forgotten, and decided to remind me of their presence by becoming inflamed again the week after.
You know what that means? MOAR PINK PILLS.

Now, I have to wait for another two weeks to find out if I will join the ranks of my living family members, each of whom no longer have their tonsils. >.>

Lesson learned: When the doctor tells you to go back within two weeks, GO BACK IN TWO WEEKS. Your tonsils seem to have feelings. They do not like being forgotten about, and will get angry at you if you decide to go back on the third week instead.