I’m back at work starting today, but I’m not quite sharp yet, so please bear with me until I’m fully recovered.
Earlier while eating, I had chopsticks over my miso soup and chopsticks in my other hand too! What the—?
Today’s been rough from the start! My throat still hurts, but the intense headache has eased, so I’m satisfied enough to decide to work.
But at home, there’s a ton of stuff I need to do.
First, laundry. There’s way more than I’d expect to have left from Sunday…
Well, I’ve been sweating and changing clothes, so that adds up…
Of course, pillow covers and sheets too… the washing machine just keeps spinning and spinning.
Even my house’s big drying rack can’t hold it all, so I’m hanging it overloaded.
I don’t like it when things dry partially, but there’s no help for it.
Weeds have been growing a lot lately, so I sprinkle powder herbicide, wash the dishes, clean the toilet, and I’m done! (Shower and vacuuming are for tonight)
Off I go to work, but my head feels all fuzzy and out of it.
I’m only going about 30 kilometers per hour and it feels fast. I’m in trouble. ☆ On the way I stopped by the pharmacy and said, “Sorry, I need something for my throat!”
This old guy goes, “Ah, ah, ah—around here!” But—he’s not a doctor or anything, just some old guy selling stuff.
There’s nothing I need to ask him.
I don’t really like pharmacies—the people working there wear white coats and all, and I get the feeling they’re saying, “We sell healthy stuff here,
we’re all about health”—but that’s just my own weird take, so forgive me. ☆
Anyway, I bought that throat spray and got to the shop! I opened the box and right away sprayed it on my throat going, “Ah, ah, ah—————”
“Whoa, that hurts! What is this, is it okay?! You there—? Huh?”
I’m pretty tough with pain, so I figured pain means it’s working, and I kept using it, but nothing changed!
Ugh, this is no good. But there’s packages and emails and letters and invoices and invoice writing and…
No point panicking, so let me just do what I can.
By around 5 p.m., I should be mostly done, and maybe I can actually make it to the hospital.
I’d looked up places near the shop, so it’s either there, or the clinic nearby that I go to during hay fever season, or the one in Ebisu run by some
enthusiast who lectures you and has a painful bedside manner. Three choices. ☆
No time to waste—I headed straight to the one near the shop. I called and they said reception closes at 5:30, so I pedaled hard on my bike for
2 minutes (so close!).
This is it! Sure enough, it’s got that local special sketchy vibe wafting through, but I can’t help it. I’m out of time!
Sorry—I called a minute ago—
“Okay, okay, can you fill this out?” “Sure, sure!” So I started filling out the form.
Whatever, but it’s not dark in here, right? That’s fine! There’s only babies as patients! The average patient age is weirdly low.
Maybe I’ll read something. Let’s see—picture books… hmm, I don’t hate them but I’m not in the mood.
Jarinko Chie… hmm, nope, that’s not it either.
Newspaper… hmm, I don’t have the energy for that.
While I was doing all that, they called me! “Come on in,” they said.
I opened the frosted glass door and—whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa—”It’s dark again—the room! It’s really dark!”
Out comes this lady who looks like an old grandpa—a female nurse, that is. ☆
The doctor’s almost a grandma too, but she keeps her face super close—like 30 centimeters away! That’s scary!
Doctor: “So what’s wrong?”
Me: “I had a fever, it’s gone now, but my throat hurts, so I came to have you take a look…”
Doctor: “How high was your fever?”
Me: “Well, I don’t have a thermometer, so… I’m not sure…”
Doctor: “Any medicine?”
Me: “We don’t keep medicine at home, so I haven’t taken anything…”
Doctor: “Well, let me take your temperature just in case.”
[Taking temperature]………………
Thermometer: *beep* 35.8 degrees
Me: “Whoa!”
Doctor: “You’re fine. Let me see your ear first.”
She shoved some weird instrument in there and peered inside.
Doctor: “No problem there. Next, your nose.”
She stuck something like a cotton swab way up my nose and peered with the instrument.
Doctor: “Hmm, something’s off. You’ve got inflammation.”
Doctor: “Open your mouth—say ‘ah.'”
Doctor: “Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my… your tonsils are really swollen, aren’t they? Are you okay? Really?”
Me: “It just hurts when I swallow, and I can manage it, so it’s pretty normal for me, but I figured I should get it checked out just in case…”
Doctor: “They’re so swollen! Want to see? Want to see?”
Me: “Uh, yeah… (like I could see anything in that mirror anyway!)”
Doctor: “Did you see? Did you see? They’re really swollen, right?”
Me: “(That doesn’t really matter to me) I can’t do anything by looking at it myself, so I’ll pass.”
Doctor: “Oh, I see… too bad.”
Then she did some weird suction thing, I went to pick up medicine, and headed home…
Before I left, I thought it was just a runny nose, but—it’s a nosebleed!
Doctor: “Oh, you’re bleeding from your nose, so be careful!”
Me: “(You’re the one who shoved that thing way up there to the painful spot!) Ugh, ugh…”
And with that I headed to the pharmacy they recommended…
This place is shabby too. Is it weaponized? Let me just grab what I need and get out of here—seriously.
I handed over the prescription and they go, “Do you understand this? Uh, no, I don’t—what should we do? Should we ask?” and they’re looking confused.
They seem to be calling the doctor from earlier.
“Sorry for the wait. Here’s your medicine. I want to check the brand name on the back and the printed details, but—”
I can read it okay, but there’s no ink in the printer, right? I get it because I’m cheap too, but come on—
Well, no matter where I go, there’s always something funny going on with Decoboco. ♪
The end! ☆
