Off to seek care
After my required four days of “stay away from everyone”, I rejoined the “under doctor’s supervision” community. The routine is simple: get clean enough to be around some of the more productive members of society, arrive at the clinic (on time), and go to meet with the substitute surgeon. Yes, just like in education, we have subs. Better pay scale, but the main requirement is a flexible personality, because new faces are the order of business.
Much of the public medical system is housed (sic) in offices above pharmacies. After all, the ill need to be medicated. The downside is that any given clinic will be unable to afford to have all of the fun toys on site. Hence, we had our consultation, and then went back to the car. In passing, those flights of stairs might account for an uptick in the infarctus numbers. Just a thought.
For part two of the day, I went to the hospital. Not to be hospitalized (although that could happen, yet). We cooled our heels in the car, in the parking lot, for around two hours. And parking lots come with their own peculiar customs. You see, many of the “parked” don’t normally “park in public. The first car, small and red, required a lot of time and space to get settled in. And when that rig headed away, a larger, red truck took its place. And promptly backed up and put a hole in the grill of the next car in the row. No possibility of attaching any blame; the driver of the red RAM was convinced that the other car was over some imaginary line on the pavement, absolving the RAM pilot of any responsibility. If, tonight, you notice that your grill is wounded, I heard it happen.
So, back to the hospital visit. Definitely on my short list of places to avoid, as we spiral downward on a nasty infection curve. At the door of the establishment, I had to remove my own, trusted mask and put on the gifted one (a door guard). He seemed perplexed that I claimed I couldn’t see why I should change, since I couldn’t see his proffer.
A hospital full of sick people make for a very uncertain class of companions, and I was only too happy to be in and out. During the visit, someone (never saw the person) zapped my eye with a real LASER. The kind that cuts through stitches in places that are hard to reach.Yes, it still stung, like a really bright bee.
And, finally, we went home. In zero visibility, by times. If you detect common themes, that is my life. I yearn for the good old days, when the doctor came to visit you, at home.
