Clinic Duty

I find it stupidly ironic that after my heart, mind, and spirit were treated to a weekend at the spa I got fantastically sick and had to spend the night in the clinic due to a parasite.

It was awful. If anyone has ever experienced spending a night in a hospital due to an illness I am so terribly sorry, but I am even more sorry and empathetic if that night was also spent in a foreign country. Because this is where I learned how shitty loneliness can be. Enough said.

But I suppose it wasn't all bad...after a morning spent in a tiny little room I was moved to a room in which I believe is normally reserved for new mothers, seeing as it has a lounge area, a couch, a television, a closet, and a personal bathroom including a shower. But material things cannot replace the joy company can provide, and I was lucky to have the number of visitors that I had (complete with bouquet of sunflowers). I am wondering, about my penthouse suite, whether or not it was given to me due to my nationality. I would understand hospitals wanting to provide the best kind of care to foreigners in order to develop international recognition, so it wouldn't surprise me if that was the reasoning behind my room. I'm not trying to be arrogant, it is just a thought.

Who knows, maybe they put me in that room because I was just too beautiful to be kept anywhere else! Or maybe because they didn't have any other rooms available and I just plain got lucky. Any of these ideas could be the real cause, but all I can say is the room was unusually nice.

Another thing that made the...experience, I'll call it, not completely miserable and agonizing was that my main nurse (who was by no means unattractive) came in to check on me a number of times to carry on long conversations about each of our lives. And, in all my sweaty and stinky and parasite glory, he asked me for my number. And to go out dancing with him as soon as I felt better. Gotta love Latinos.