My story, Part II

So at this point it's still November and I'm frail and weak but feeling much better following the Plague. Luckily, I'm healthy enough to board the plane to NYC to spend several weeks with my sister as she awaits giving birth to her first son. About 5 days into my trip, the fatigue and fever kick in again. I feel progressively worse and soon my throat starts aching in that same spot. Now, not only worried about myself but the health of my sister, I get a next day appointment with my old doctor. He puts me on another 10 day round of antibiotics and gives me a huge uninsured/unemployed discount for which I am forever grateful. Two days pass and I'm feeing good again.
My sister goes into labor a week later! After 32 hours and a cesarean, my perfect little nephew was born.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep but a couple of days later I wake up coughing so hard that I can barely catch my breath. My voice is gone and what seems to be a head and chest cold have settled into my body. Luckily, my plane left the next day so I did not infect the new baby. My boyfriend picked me up at LAX and I was a hacking hot mess. We proceed to drive up to Big Bear Mountain where we stayed out late drinking and partying with friends.

 Probably not the best decision. On the drive back to Lake Havasu and the following days, my cough is so bad that my ribs hurt and I can't sleep more than a couple of hours. Back to the tribal hospital.
They put me on a breathing treatment immediately. Write me a prescription for another round of antibiotics and give me an inhaler to get me through the next few days. Finally, I start to feel good again!
At this point, it was time to head north so my boyfriend and I pack up and drive to Oregon just after Christmas. We celebrate New Years with friends on the Oregon Coast and I'm feeling great....for 4 more days....and then my throat closes up again.
My throat swells so much that my tonsils were almost touching and the pain so intense that I can barely swallow and start to gasp for breath. What a joy. Luckily, I was at my mom's house at this time so I popped into the local indian clinic where, before examining me or taking my medical history, asks if I'm a drug dealer and suggests an immediate HIV test. Unprofessional (and reported!). Racist. Anxiety inducing.
Now, I know I don't have HIV, I've been tested, monogamous, etc... However, when a doctor  says those three letters in relation to you, it tends to lead to a freak out.
Fed up with this close minded doctor, I get an appointment with my old doctor from high school about an hour away who is one of the most kind people I know. He immediately diagnosis me with a Perintonsillar Abscess and (knowing I can't afford surgery) puts me on 6 weeks of antibiotics to try to kill the infection. Six weeks. So for those keeping tally this will total around 10 weeks of antibiotics. Not good for one's health.
Of course, after a week or so on the meds I start to feel well enough to hit the road again and move up to Seattle to get back to real life, but something feels off....