Mi mamá was always telling me to go to the doctor even when I only had a runny nose. Well, I did accidentally. I was working with the physical therapist last week and I suddenly felt terrible. I told the physical therapist I probably had a fever and then she whisked me away to the doctor down the hall. I thought the doctor would take my temperature and give me aspirin, and then I would go home. However, they treated me like a real patient and took all my information and vitals down. I had to wait for the doctor for 15 minutes, while this middle-aged couple made out on one of the beds behind a curtain. I could clearly see them, while the doctors couldn’t. There was some touching going on, so that was uncomfortable in addition to having no idea why I was having a formal examination.
The doctor talked very quickly and I could not understand what she was saying. She was the first person that used a condescending tone with me because I was not fluent. It felt horrible. She told the nurse that I didn’t understand anything and that she needed to help me in a tone I didn’t like. The doctor said I needed tests, which I was not going to take because I needed to get to my class (at that time I felt well enough), and I only started feeling sick an hour ago. I left without taking the tests and took a cab to class. I had three classes that day, but only made it through one.
I went home and my family was eating lunch, and I told them all teary-eyed I wanted to eat in my room because I felt so sick, and then mi mamá started barraging me with questions about my illness. It was a bad time to be sick because my family had more family over to help construct the roof, so there were so many people in the house and it sounded like a machete was cutting concrete outside my window.
Somehow mi mamá convinced me to have a nurse come to the house that night. The service is included in the program, so I didn’t mind too much. I knew they couldn’t do much but tell me to get tests and give me pain meds, but at that time I didn’t care. Since mi casa doesn’t have an address, mi mamá waited at the park for the nurses, but the first set got in a car crash, and mi mamá ended up waiting two hours outside until more nurses came. I felt bad that the car crashed because of my fever and I, the nurses were okay. Eventually a new set arrived late at night. The nurse asked me if she should speak English or Spanish, and English seemed like the better choice because I could better explain my symptoms. Not so. The nurse asked me, when bathroom…pointing gestures…butt? I told her no. She reverted to Spanish and did all the usual stuff, and then they told me I needed some medicine. I was down with that, until the male nurse told me to flip over. I protested, telling them that I could just take something orally instead, but they kept telling me how much better the injection was. Needless to say, I had an injection in my behind.
The next few days were just as bad, only with different symptoms. I felt better on Friday, and went on a hiking trip on the weekend to Quilotoa, which is a mountain with a luguna en su cráter, which is like Cuicocha. A girl from my class rented the tent, sleeping bags, and sleeping pads for both of us, which made things really easy.
No comments:
Post a Comment