Petit-Montrouge

Congestion. Cough. Nausea. Random ear pain. Sandpaper throat. We’ve all been there at one time or another. Right now I feel like the kitchen sink of diseases. My mother speculates that I picked it up because I didn’t wash my hands after going on the metro. Either way, now I get to have the cultural experience of being sick in France.

I’ve had a sore throat for about a week and a half now, and procrastinated going to the doctor for as long as possible. Even yakking at school wasn’t enough to stop me. But the push through method has failed to result in my symptoms actually improving, so I headed to the doctor’s, as recommended by my exchange organization.

The office was in the 8th, about a 40 minute commute away. The doctors sign was not the most noticeable, but I called the number listed and said I had an appointment. The person on the other end tried in vain to get my dumb ass to figure out the keypad (embarrassing), so someone eventually came down and led me through a fortress of locked doors. Why this doctors office has Alcatraz level security, I can’t really understand either. Also, no one in this office spoke English, despite being advertised as an English speaking establishment. It would have been funnier had I not been so desperate to find out what was wrong with me and feel better.

After muddling through the pre-appointment procedures, I sat down in a lavishly furnished living room. I’m talking chintz sofas, ornate mirrors, Japanese vases, and gilded crown molding that would make your contractor weep. I waited about fifteen minutes before being ushered into a room by an older woman wearing a white coat and UGG BOOTS. The dichotomy was hilarious. The office also reeked of cigarette smoke. We communicated with difficulty, but eventually she did a brief physical examination, didn’t test me for anything, and prescribed me a laundry list of sprays, syrups, and amoxicillin. As of yet none of them have made a dent in my symptoms, which is frustrating to say the least. You can probably hear a touch of resentment in my voice, but after being sick for a week and a half and not being able to figure out what’s wrong with you, wouldn’t you be too? The most valuable thing I got out of the experience was a doctors note, which will allow me to not be penalized for missing school.

this has all been a bit of a mess. The pharmacy is thankfully right around the corner, and the nice pharmacist helped translate the doctors completely illegible script. 33 euros later I am still no closer to feeling better, and I have six hours straight of class tomorrow, which is when my medical absence ends. Pray for me everyone please.Okumaya devam et