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bindleofwords · 10 years

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What's Up, Doc?

I'm sitting at the Doctors office. Yes. Finally here. Pretty sure it was guaranteed. Everyone told me it was inevitable. Luckily, it's not for sickness. I've got this nasty skin rash. On my arms, armpit, lower back. And groin region. Terrible. Would be terrifying. But! Positive I got it in Varkala. And since I don't live there, it won't be a local haunting, daunting mystery to me. A few options. At any hotel, home stay, government housing, it's impossible to tell when the last time the sheets have been cleaned. And if cleaned, how thoroughly. And a good chance, washed solely in water. In my experience thus far, all the sheets have smelled musty. Under the sheet, who knows what condition the mattress is in. Is the mattress a mattress? Or a home? But, my luck has been good. Five different budget places and no problems. I'm giving this hotel the benefit of the doubt, since it is indeed a beach town, with a pretty dirty beach. I probably brought whatever it was home with me after two days of swimming and hanging out on the beach. My room had a major ant problem. Coming out of all corners. It was gross. But I let most of them be. Lie. But I wanted to. I also happened to want to sleep alone. And wake up alone. In the west, I will never complain about waiting at the doctors office again. I signed a piece of paper. Fourteenth on the list. I've been sitting here since four. The doctor is supposed to arrive at four-thirty. It's four-forty-two. A few minutes later and he shows up. Smiling. What? You expected me at four-thirty? Ha! No wonder why no one else showed up until four-thirty. To reserve a spot, they came earlier in the day or week and signed the paper. The waiting room is outside. It's seventy percent humidity. Only twenty-eight celsius. Humidity perpetuates itching in a certain area. I won't say where but there are balls there. Eh. It's not so bad. However, it does make me feel like an asshole for ever growing impatient in a dry, sixty-eight degree waiting room with couches. And bathrooms. And more magazines than you could read in a month. And then next months issues arrive. Right as you think, yes, one person closer, a salesman rolls up on his motorcycle. Parts the line and walks through the door as the patient exits. The door closes. Five to ten minutes later, he exits. This happens every two or three people. Fire ants aimlessly walk around toe side. I'm sure they have remedies in case of attack. Once again, I'm the misplaced boy. The only white guy. I'm used to it. But it's funny to put into perspective. I have no visual skin problems. Just excess squirming, in my practice of not itching...my nuts in public. I'm grateful though. If one doctors office visit was bound to happen, this ain't too bad. Gimme dat ointment doc. I went to an Ayurvedic doctor yesterday. Mind you, there are a lot of phonies here. I wanted to try the natural route first. It soothed the itching but the rash persisted. Not powerful enough. Ayurvedic medicines need assistance from mind power. It failed me. All I could think was steroids. Steroids. Steroids. Gimme dat cream doc! Gimme dat ointment. Gimme d'oze steroids. The kind that burns on application. The kind that screams I'M WORKING DOWN HERE! The cold bucket of water to wake up. Hit me with it. I walk out of there with a shit load of stuff to take. I don't know what they were. One pill a day for this kind. Seven days. Morning and night pill here. Two days. Morning and night pill here. Four days. A day time ointment. Then the grand daddy night time ointment. Six bucks. Total for the visit. I'm hesitant. All this medication. Six dollars? I don't know what it is. The wifi has been out so I can't call my doctor sister. Pills in hand. Skeptical look on my face. Eh. What the hell? When in India.

#kerala #southindia #ullanoor #doctors #doctorindia #indiadoctor #rash

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