One thing that many persons probably don't know about me is that I don't like doctors... Hmm... maybe that is putting it somewhat too lightly. To explain it better, every time I get sick I find 1001 reasons why I shouldn't go to the doctor, rather than actually facing the most obvious one which would lead me straight to the doctor's office and that, pure and simple, is the fact that I'm sick. So that basically means that I can go on and on and on feeling bad from something until the point that it eventually gets cured or... that I lose my patience all together, give up and book an appointment at the doctor's.
I'll refrain from going on about public health care in Portugal, just for the sake of your own mental sanity, really, and all the reasons why if you'd actually want to be treated from whatever ailment you have you should seek private clinics. I'm also going to refrain from wandering into the intricate realms of how to make the public health services (from where you can get rather inexpensively access to the "auxiliary means of diagnosis", a.k.a. medical exams) work alongside with the private ones (where you can actually get a proper appointment that doesn't have a maximum time frame of 7 minutes...). I'm only going to tell you, with a somewhat sense of pride you get from one of those moments where you manage to fight your demons and conquer your fears, that yesterday I went to the doctor!
... and this absolutely "thrilling" introduction, just to inform you that, on the other hand, I didn't touch my Swedish textbook, nor did I touch anything Swedish related, except maybe for my husband and some items of IKEA furniture and bedding. :-S
Knowledgeable of my resourcefulness when it comes to avoiding doctors, my husband served both as a chaperon and as a warden to escort me to the all-so-dreaded appointment, which afterwards resulted in him having to compensate those lost hours. As a consequence, he left work at 8 p.m., which then resulted in a not so exquisite dinner at Burger King (maybe just to prove once again that they really should have some sort of hearing aid because the orders never come out quite as you have put them and, in the end, they happily try to convince you that it's mostly your fault... "Just because you ordered a Coke Light and I registered a Coke Light, I don't really see where the problem is if I decide to just pour you a regular Coke!").
On the other hand, we also made a pit stop by the Nespresso store, where Mr. B. spent an insane amount of money on an insane amount of coffee - it kind of reminded me of Sandra Bullock's last line in "Two Weeks Notice": "No, actually, this is for two" - just having the totally opposite meaning. Furthermore, upon being informed that we'd be going away soon for 2 weeks and that we might not need to take that amount of coffee at once, in a very Gollum-ish ("My preciousssssssssssss!") way he happily tells me that, at least, we'll have plenty of coffee when we get back! (These are the moments when I can rest assured that he's got his priorities right!) An espresso-obsessed Swede! Who would have thought of it!... :-)
Well, now I must be off minding the workload that expects me, while sipping on some nice and warm Finezzo Lungho and pondering how I'm supposed to make the rest of the day work. Oh! And eventually I'll complain immensely from my week long injury to my wrist - apparently, the anti-inflammatory cream and the tight bandage is not doing the trick :-( - while giving it a serious thought to pay another visit to the doctor's office...
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