Friday, September 16, 2005

Doctors Visits

Krista wasn*t kidding when she told me Koreans go to the Doctor for EVERYTHING. I saw three kids with potentially life threatening scratches to their elbows and knees playing on the automated height-measuring machine. Actually, I*m not one to make fun of them, my condition didn*t appear to be much worse than anyone else*s.

Doctors, medical facilities and medicine are just a few things I try to keep my distance from. However, orders from my Hog-Wan to report to the doctor left me with no choice but to head for the clinic. Waiting rooms are peculiar places... sterile congregation areas for the infected. One Korean woman had that kind of deep, lung-scraping cough that made you instinctually want to leave the room.

Even more concerning, was the way she went about coughing, ensuring she misted every inch of that room with her germs and lung particulate. Koreans are oblivious to the concept of covering your mouth when you cough. I can deal with the reality Koreans will never let people out before they go in, hold the door open for others or chew with their mouths closed, but we must oppress this cultures nasty habit of coughing as if to share it with the entire world.

The nurses saved me from the germ sprinkler and brought me to the secondary waiting room, a little closer than the initial waiting room and void of magazines. Once in my doctor*s office I noticed his hands were soft and delicate, he looked to be somewhere between 45 and 55. The flat screen monitor in his office had so many windows open I figured he was simultaneously overseeing a mission to the moon. He depressed my tongue with a metal thing instead of the standard Popsicle stick they use back home. Then He put on one of those crazy, circular metal, relfelctor things, with the eyehole in the middle, that you only see on those universal, simplistic doctor signs -- and peered into my nostrils. Three minutes after it all began I was finished, and it only cost me the equivalent of a dollar for every minute I was there!

The prognosis: Tonsillitis. Down at pharmacy, while they where filling my prescription, a package of **Medicinal Cigarettes** caught my attention. Strait form China, they boasted, **These Herb Medicine Smoke Substitutes are a Revolution of Innocence in its Taste and Sense...** SOLD! I picked up my whole color spectrum of pills, conveniently grouped and individually packaged for each day, and went home.

Taking pills at home in Canada is bad enough, here, I*m scared shitless. Speaking of pills, it looks like I*m due for my first batch right now.


1 comment:

Max said...

Err um.. Those are the smokes you're supposed to smoke when ya wanna stop smoking, but just gotta have something to smoke. Oh, and I knew a Korean girl who went to the hospital for a BRUISE! Hahahahaha.