Last night my body temperature hit the roof.
This morning, I thought it’d be prudent to visit a doctor because it’s been too short a time since the last time I went feverish. Which was when we were in Pasir Mas about two weeks ago.
So, the doctor took one look down my throat and called Ain to check out the white spots on my tonsils. “Septic tonsilitis” is what I got and my temperature was 38 degrees Centigrade, though I was pretty sure I felt much better at the time compared to say three hours earlier.
The doctor rattled out the treatment he was about to dish out, but what caused me to go “Wha-?” was the word “jab”. Great, I was about to get a cold, hard metal needle inserted under my skin. It’s something I haven’t done for years, in fact probably since I was a teenager. Now my lucky streak was about to end.
The doctor told me to get on the biobed (wait… that’s in another TV show).
“So it’s my butt not the arm, eh?” said I.
“Yes,” answered the nurse.
The doctor came from behind the all-concealing partition armed with a needle. I held Ain’s hand and though, Oh, what the hell. I thought I’d calmly resign myself to my fate.
There was some swabbing with disinfectant on my butt. I thought I felt something. That was it? Then the doctor said, “Hang on. One more needle.”
“I’m gonna have a lot of holes in my butt,” I told Ain.
Again, the doctor appeared from behind the partition. I just let it happen. Again, I thought there was something and then there was swabbing again. Was it over? Suddenly there was a sharp pain from the gluteus maximus which caused me to say something in the neighbourhood of, “Ow!”
“Two shots?” I asked Ain.
“No,” she who saw the whole thing said. “Three.”
Which got me to thinking… I don’t remember when the last time I got a needle jabbed into my ass cheeks, but when I can’t avoid it they stick me with three needles.
Anyway, the tonsilitis seems to be receding. And the fever is gone too. (So did a considerable amount of cash used as payment for the doctor’s medical services, but c’est la vie… sigh.)