Streptococci (Heh, He Said Cock)

My daughter had a sore throat last week (which mysteriously disappeared on its own) and I found out yesterday that my brother and his son have been diagnosed with strep throat. Ever since my buddy Wade (aka DDT) and I had the exact same symptoms a few years ago, and his doctor diagnosed strep while my doctor stuck a long wooden Q-tip down my throat only to tell me that there was nothing wrong, I have had serious doubts about the validity of this disease. Methinks it is akin to Irritable Bowel Syndrome, which is doctorese for "I don't know what's wrong with you but I have other paying customers I want to see in order to keep my mistress in her apartment and I have to prescribe something because said mistress works for a pharmaceutical company and she needs her commission."
I was surprised to find that Strep is related to scarlet fever and impetigo (gross!). One of the symptoms is "back of the throat covered with a whitish coating" which takes me back to the doctor's mistress. Have you ever seen those sales chicks in the doctor's office? Damn! Is that where chicks that are too short to model go as a second career choice? Are implants a part of the uniform? On the other hand, Bam's brother used to sell drugs to doctors, but hell, he's cute as a button.
When I was a kid, there was no such thing as strep throat. In the world according to my Mexican mother, sore throats were caused by walking around barefoot on hard flooring. As a matter of fact, cold itself is full of bacteria and various viruses, which can only enter the body through bare arms, chattering teeth and unusually thin coats. Every night when I pray, I thank God for wisdom and knowledge, then I go to my Mom's house in the winter with the kids in shorts and wife-beaters and just laugh and laugh at her incessant worrying. Isn't life grand? A large scary man I will refer to as "Bam's-dad" once said "Well, what did you expect?" Exactly, Bam's-dad. Exactly.
As much as I hate to play into any stereotyping of my people, I can't help but think that there is wisdom in the Chicano idea that medicine is a big racket where they tell you you're sick so that they can give you drugs that make you sicker so they can give you more drugs, ad infinitum. I have met the occasional doctor that actually tries to treat what's wrong with me rather than telling me to, as one doctor put it, "take some Advil." People make fun of chiropractors like they're snake oil salesmen, but chiropractors actually try to figure out what's causing the problem (if they're honest) and then fix it. Of course, the natural progression of the honest chiropractor is cured patients and consequently, an interruption in the flow of revenue. I've seen it happen first hand. How sick a world do we live in where an ex-chiropractor has to resort to the menial job of (dare I say it?) teaching children?! Science! Teaching them science! In public school! Oh, the humanity! I'd sooner walk down MLK boulevard dressed as the grand Cyclops than teach in public school. I mean, hell, look at the crap that Bam has to deal with. It's not bad enough that he has to try to corral those unruly bastards (many of them literally), now he has to play nanny to an observer whom I picture in my head as the comic book guy from the Simpsons.
Now that I think of it, the world where bare feet on cold concrete causes hoarseness and the chupacabra can be kept at bay with a clove of garlic and 20 rosaries is a much prettier world than the one in which I live. Hmmmm… I hear housing, food, and loose stools are easily had south of the border…