I've been getting sick about once a month since I moved to the mainland six months ago, but then I got sick, really sick, twice in February--the last time being that I felt like I had broken marbles in my throat and couldn't swallow or breathe, really, while sleeping, which would mean I could choke and, like, DIE... so I went to SF General, which has an Urgent Care facility that treats uninsured and unemployed folk like myself... and, when I finally got in to see the doctor, she examined my throat and made concerned noises then said she had to go get an "abcess specialist," which kinda scared me but whatever and then the "specialist" came in and took a peek at my tonsils and made more concerned noises and then, without uttering a word to me, turned to the doctor and said, "Does she speak English?"
(Okay, this one-sentence summation thing is getting to be bullshit so I'm gonna go ahead and drop that now. Thanks)
Anyway, they ended up giving me another shot of Penicilin in my ass, and a prescription for Vicodin (yippee!) for the pain, and, I think, to numb me from the debilitating effects of being linguistically misread by a mere glance of my poor, tired, jobless Hispanic visage.
Oh, and also? Nobody wanted to have sex with me while I was coughing up custard so after six weeks or so, this resulted in a fairly serious bout of FEMALE HYSTERIA and I was in desperate need of some hysterical paroxysm. Or just paroxysm. I definitely needed an "ysm," in other words...
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