Personal, Switzerland

The Rest of the Story

So, after taking my students way too early to lunch, after modifying my reading lesson to what the parents want, after walking into the TR teacher and knowing that I was having a bad day, she convinced me to wave the white flag. I was going to go home. Early. Even before my Dr. appointment. I went upstairs, got my things, and headed out the door. The bus came two minutes later. No one made me feel bad. In fact, no one even allowed me to get something ready for the afternoon, they just said go. So I did. And what a great feeling that was.

I came home. Ate some oatmeal and then took a nap before my Dr. appointment. Forty minutes later, I set off in search of my first Swiss doctor experience. I spotted the name on the wall of one of the old buildings in the stadt. I thought it said floor two. I walked up a rickety, wooden, spiral staircase, passing door number one and up to door number two. I felt like I was in a dream, which would be the door with the magic prize? I opened door two to an imaculate modern white world that existed silently behind the walls of this antique building. There were comfortable black seats and lots — for those who could read German — to read. I was early, but imagined I wouldn’t have to wait a moment past my appointment time, everything in Switzerland is right on the button. And I was right.

At 2.30pm my Dr. walked out and with an outstreched hand embraced mine in a handshake. He was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. There was no long white jacket. No long lines to wait in. Just me and the doc. It was the ususal procedure for checking for would be sinus infections, breath in deep, let me look down your throat. I’ve had enough that I can diagnose them; I just need someone with a special signature to get me the meds. I went back to the nurses area, had my finger pricked for blood testing and waited another five minutes. The blood test was so accurate that it showed the status of the illness, where it was and where it was going. I was on the “down swing”, meaning “getting better” mode. To get better quick, which I needed to do with a flight on Wed. evening, I needed the antibiotics. I also snagged some sort of pill that is a vaccine that should ward me off getting these infections often, as I did in BKK.

I then headed towards the Apothecary across from my apartment. I was greeted by the super nice lady who could speak English. I didn’t need someone to communicate with me, the Dr. had already explained the meds, but it was nice. Nice. That about sums it up.

No need to bore you with the details of shopping for soup, juice and other things you like to have when you are sick. Now, I will settle into bed with the not so yummy tea I must drink, Lolita and await Ali’s call before I fall into slumber. Lucky the morning didn’t trickle over into my evening. Nuf said.