Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Pains and Pseudo Doctors

I've had pains in my throat and up my Oesophagus for the past few weeks, actually since I've been quitting smoking. It has only started since I have tried to quit. Except for those rare days when I had smoked far too much. Same feeling, nearly, almost.

Now I have quit every thing it seems to be worse, painful. More so when I think about it. Fine in the morning, after I've rested, getting progressively worse during the day. I turned down Shane's pot Sunday night. And last night. I just figure I have to, let my body finally repair.

So I went to the chemist - the same chemist who said I should get some antibiotics when my elbow was infected, who I didn't listen to, when I ended up in hospital - rather than just assuming I knew that it was the withdrawal/repair thing and short of going to all the effort of going to the doctor, the chemist is in my building. I said I wanted some ant acid and she agreed that it is probably "the repair" starting to kick in.

"If it lasts too long, you will need to go to your doctor."

Oh, there you go again, making predictions. I wish you wouldn't, I thought. I was happy with every thing you had said up until this point.

She smiled the smile of a killer - someone who is steadfast in their ideas and knowledge, who enjoys an expert position over others. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Um, no thanks."

"Okay then." She stood and held her gaze on me.

She's kind of pretty, I thought. In a big, buxom, blokey sort of way. Bright eyes, dark curly hair, nice skin, tall, solid. You'd have made a good bloke, I thought. You'd be missing a dick, I assumed.

"So, nothing else I can do for you?"

Show me your dick, I thought, stifling a laugh. I looked at her, her expression having become fixed, almost strained. Smile of a killer. Time to go Christian. Move I told myself.

"Um, er, no. No thanks," I said.

I picked up my nasal spray (the same one that has rotted my gums) and my Savacol mouth wash (helping to prevent my gums from rotting) and my box of double strength Mylanta, rubbed my chest, took one last look at bifo the chemist - still smiling, praying for me to leave, I could see it in the beads of sweat on her face - turned and left.

 

2 comments:

Gabriel said...

get well soon!

FletcherBeaver said...

Thanks. I'm better now.