Last week our writer found herself in dire straits. She imagined herself flying home for Xmas or some other break and never coming back. It didn’t matter that the house was rented out and she didn’t have anywhere to stay. She even said these things aloud…to people. It was the truth you see. The painful truth of how miserable it had been. Oh yea, that’s me, dammit. This person sounds like a loser. I mean if she’s going to give up the first time it gets a little scary and she has to go to a hospital that everyone here says is really nice.
The chemo drugs that were given for infectious diarrhea worked didn’t they? Oh yea, baby they worked so well my body backlashed against them. My hunt for Monistat began at the local Chemist Shaheen.
“What’s it for?”
“A yeast infection,” I said.
Long hard stare with black eyes that do not blink.
“We don’t have.”
“Do you know who does?”
“No.”
Next chemist, Watson… go fish
“Hey, do you have Monistat?”
“We have another brand.”
“Show me.”
“You want oral or cream?”
“I’m going for the cream.”
“It will take 10 days.”
Are you kidding me? I’m thinking, it should take 3 days. The commercial says 3 days! “How much?” leaves my lips….so desperate.
“200 rupees.” $2.50 more or less
“Okay, sold”
I hope this works.
Really, I hope it does. Its just a yeast infection. No I pray that it is. I don’t want to even think about it. It can’t get any more humiliating then this right?
I google the cream. Its called GynoTravogen and I read over the results on Wikipedia.
Pseudodoctoring on myself is scary, but I’m desperate and they can fix anything in the states if I really hurt myself right? Please tell me they can fix it! How on earth am I going to explain that I thought gyno-travogen made absolute sense to me ? Maybe, I should ask the chemist for some morphine too. Hmmm. Doesn't this sound like a fabulous Sunday night?
The work week began with a chocolate bar on my desk and a nice card saying sorry from my technician. Whatever happened with my tech last week had cleared. I hold my breath waiting for the follow-up infection, but there isn’t one.
So now my main worry becomes the papers on my desk. They are supposed to be and put into something called Edline or Gradequick. These pesky people called students keep asking me about their grades. Seriously? You want me to grade these, but I’m so grouchy.
"Miss, you have a rubric!" they whine
"You think there’s a rubric in life? Let me tell you about the rubric of life. Let's discuss this in my office."
"No, that’s okay, don’t worry about our papers this very minute."
The good part about reaching your limit is that the word no emerges. Heck the word hell no is going to emerge if I’m not careful. The good part is that I’m real careful.
The chemo drugs that were given for infectious diarrhea worked didn’t they? Oh yea, baby they worked so well my body backlashed against them. My hunt for Monistat began at the local Chemist Shaheen.
“What’s it for?”
“A yeast infection,” I said.
Long hard stare with black eyes that do not blink.
“We don’t have.”
“Do you know who does?”
“No.”
Next chemist, Watson… go fish
“Hey, do you have Monistat?”
“We have another brand.”
“Show me.”
“You want oral or cream?”
“I’m going for the cream.”
“It will take 10 days.”
Are you kidding me? I’m thinking, it should take 3 days. The commercial says 3 days! “How much?” leaves my lips….so desperate.
“200 rupees.” $2.50 more or less
“Okay, sold”
I hope this works.
Really, I hope it does. Its just a yeast infection. No I pray that it is. I don’t want to even think about it. It can’t get any more humiliating then this right?
I google the cream. Its called GynoTravogen and I read over the results on Wikipedia.
Pseudodoctoring on myself is scary, but I’m desperate and they can fix anything in the states if I really hurt myself right? Please tell me they can fix it! How on earth am I going to explain that I thought gyno-travogen made absolute sense to me ? Maybe, I should ask the chemist for some morphine too. Hmmm. Doesn't this sound like a fabulous Sunday night?
The work week began with a chocolate bar on my desk and a nice card saying sorry from my technician. Whatever happened with my tech last week had cleared. I hold my breath waiting for the follow-up infection, but there isn’t one.
So now my main worry becomes the papers on my desk. They are supposed to be and put into something called Edline or Gradequick. These pesky people called students keep asking me about their grades. Seriously? You want me to grade these, but I’m so grouchy.
"Miss, you have a rubric!" they whine
"You think there’s a rubric in life? Let me tell you about the rubric of life. Let's discuss this in my office."
"No, that’s okay, don’t worry about our papers this very minute."
The good part about reaching your limit is that the word no emerges. Heck the word hell no is going to emerge if I’m not careful. The good part is that I’m real careful.
On a trip to Morocco a traveling companion got bed bugs. The hunt for medication was much the same.
ReplyDeleteHang in there.