My trip to the "doctor"

OH. MY. LORD.

I just got back from my first and hopefully only trip to the “doctor”. I use that term loosely because there is NO WAY the guy that I saw went to med school. Let me explain.

So, 2 nights ago I woke up at 2:15 and proceeded to shit water and throw up for the next 2 and a half hours. Finally drifted off to sleep, but the entire next day I was nauseous and still shitting every 15 minutes or so. Great. By the end of the day though, I was feeling better and decided it would be ok to eat a light dinner, so I did. I felt pretty good when I went to bed, but low and behold at 3:15 I woke up and proceeded to shit water for the next 2 and a half hours. Not cool. I could hear my stomach churning, I could feel things moving…. Not good.

            Decided when I woke up this morning that this was enough, it was time to go to the doctor. The clinic that we had been recommended was about 15 minutes away and is where a lot of the expats go. When Andrew and I roll up, we are really pleased with the look of the place- looks great! So, I poop in a cup and send it off to the lab and wait to see the doctor.

            About 10 minutes later, this white guy comes around the corner with a blond, spiky crew cut and a black and white tie-died GodSmack t-shirt on. I don’t think anything of it. Then I notice scrub pants and a stethoscope. Then he calls my name. “Oh, this is the doctor?” I think. Hmm. Yeah. That’s what he CLAIMS TO BE.

Homeboy proceeds to take me into Exam room 1, where I tell him my symptoms. He tells me that the lab results don’t show giardia (what I was afraid of) but that it’s some kind of bacteria. THEN HE SAYS, in all seriousness:

“You know what I bet it is? Cholera. Yeah, that’s it. You’ve got cholera.”

Of course I thought he was joking. I mean, I feel pretty bad but I’m not like, dying. SO THEN he says,

“Or wait, maybe it’s dysentery. Wait, let me look….”

And he proceeds to whip out this little Palm-Pilot looking thing and tinks around on it for like 5 damn minutes, looking really perplexed. Then he says, “Yeah, you should take Cipro.”(which is what I’ll do). I told him that I already had some, so no need to write me a prescription. THEN he continues to look at his little PalmPilot thing and discovers that, for cholera, Doxycycline is better:

“See here? Doxy….. *struggles to pronounce* cycline.”

THEN he says with a laugh, in reference to his little PalmPilot,

“I mean, this little thing is kind of like a medical genius. It’s pretty much always right.”

Hahahha NOT FUNNY DIPSHIT.

I then ask him, “How long are you here?”

“Oh, just a few weeks.”

(Hmmm. That’s comforting)

 Then I ask, “Where did you go to school?”

He responds with, “Alabama.”

OH REALLY?!? You passed 10^th grade? That’s great, Skipper. Now tell me what the HELL you are doing in Malawi giving medical advice to people.

….I didn’t actually say that out loud. But I did think it. And smile at him, trying to remember every detail of our fun little exchange so I could tell Andrew about it in the car. Oh, it gets better. Skipper proceeds to tell me that I should take Cipro and Doxycycline AT THE SAME TIME.

When I said, “Actually, I don’t think that would be a good idea. It’s not good to mix antibiotics. I’ll stick with one.”

....he replied with, as if he has just had a major epiphany, “Yeah, maybe that’d be a good idea….”

Then I told him that I would like a prescription for Diflucan, as there is a chance that I will get a yeast infection because of the Cipro. Yet again, Skipper has his lightbulb moment and says, slowly, “Oh yeah, I’m glad you reminded me of that. I always forget about that. Good idea. Oh, are you pregnant?”

WHAT?!?! Wow. Wow wow wow. #1 NO #2 What does that have to do with diarrhea?! Or yeast infections?! Do I look pregnant to you? Or does it look like I’ve been SHITTING FOR 2 DAYS STRAIGHT.

Right before we were about to head across the hall to the pharmacy, he says, “Let me just do this real quick,” and whips out his stethoscope and proceeds to put it ON TOP of my swishy-material athletic jacket. And tells me to breathe. I am guessing he saw this once on ER and thought it might be a good idea. He probably felt real smart.

Anyways. On to the pharmacy, where I get 3 Diflucan for approximately 60 cents. NICE. Best part of the day.

Then I ask him, kind of just for fun to see what he would say, “Well, if the Cipro doesn’t work, how many Doxy should I take?”

He looks down at the ground, slightly puzzled, as if someone has just asked him to do an advanced calculus problem in his brain, and says, “Yeah, just take 3.”

 ………. To which I say, “3 over the course of one day, one pill a day for 3 days………”

And my Alabaman Genius replies with, “Oh, just take 3 at one time. And if that doesn’t work, then take 2 every 3 days.”

WHAT?!??!?!?!

So, I went up to the front, very begrudgingly paid the $25 for the “doctor’s visit”, and got the hell out of there.

So, this goes along with something I wrote about in my last post:

IF YOU DON’T HAVE A SPECIFIC SKILL THEN DON’T JUST THINK YOU CAN VOLUNTEER ANYWHERE!!! ESPECIALLY AT A DAMN CLINIC!!!

I can’t even imagine what the hell he thinks he is doing. I didn’t pry. I’m not going to. I just hope he goes back home and goes to school and stops pretending to be a doctor. Quit embarrassing yourself and quite wasting my time and money, Scooter. Just quit. I’m gonna go take my Cipro now.