The Arm Gets Worse

The doctor said that I should come back if I didn't notice it easing off in the next two days.

Today, the infection wasn't just my elbow, oh no, no, no, it had spread half way down my forearm. So I called the doc, who was off for the next three days, so the receptionist said, Just come in, I'll get another doctor to look at it.

When I was at the clinic, I asked if I could see my own doctor, as I didn't want to see Doctor X, but no, my own doctor was remaining busy and some what out of reach.

No, I can't squeeze you into see your own doctor, said the receptionist. But you are the first in line for Doctor X.

Okay, now I have to say it, I thought. The trouble is that I don't like Doctor X, I explained.

Oh, okay, I can put you in with Doctor Y, at 12.

Cool, I said. I like Doctor Y, he's a nice bloke.

The few times I've seen Doctor X, he has treated me like an idiot, but more to the point, I have thought he was an idiot.

Oh my goodness, were Doctor Y's first words, as I showed him my elbow.

That can't be good, I thought.

Anyway, he sent me to hospital. I've been in St Vinnies getting intravenous antibiotics, for the afternoon. (other people go out for a long lunch) I now have my arm in a sling, a drip in my arm and the rest of the week off work. (other people go to Fiji) I have to go back tomorrow for more intravenous antibiotics. Yeah!

Now, I'm going to lay on the couch and watch day time television. I wonder which is worse, hospital or day time television?