The idea is quite simple. I got sick. One of those horrible throat-aches with their corresponding infection, fever of 40 degrees... and feeling like bloody hell.
Of course I went to the office, highly motivated, trying to convince myself "you're gonna be fine", "Maybe you are too aprehensive", "The paracetamol will have any effect soon".. and of course, I had to leave the office after 2 hours and went to the emergency service of the hospital. Very typical!!!: we all do the same, don't we?
So I sent the pertinent communications to my boss, who was on holidays, to his secretary, who wasn't.... and a couple of persons that had to know whether I was going to be absent for a couple of days.
Fortunately it was just Thursday: I could rest for the whole weekend.
I took the car, I didn't crash... and drove to the hospital.
1. I had to park... how could I let you know how far it was from the hospital...????
Let me think...
Well, since Madrid is not the most well known city in the world I can't use it for my example. Let's use New York city / Manhattan.
I parked in front of Tiffany's on the 5th avenue (so, at the main door of Abercrombie & Fitch ;O) ) and the hospital was in Battery Park or Wall street.... THAT FAR!!!
So though I had the right to park there for 2 hours.. I paid a ticket for 3: my sixth sense was telling me that I would need it....
2. It's very funny walk with a 40 degrees fever carrying the laptop from Tiffany's to Wall Street.... I got into the hospital... but I didn't get into the ER service inmediately... I went to the admission: it was not there but in another wing of the hospital...
3. I arrive at my "final destination" (It was my end, for sure)... Woody Allen, in Manhattan Murder Mistery, says when Diane Keaton sees the, so believed, murdered neighbour: "a single ticket to heaven".
4. When it was my turn, the civil servant asked me "what do you want?, why have you come here?".... (obviously at my very end.. I probably just wanted to tell anybody my last will.. :O) ) but making a strong effort, and being very obedient to get what I wanted: A DOCTOR!, I answered very politely... I don't feel well, throat-ache, fever....
Of course I had to "play my role" from the very beginning: greeting them in Luxembourgish with a charming "Moien", asking him in French "Parlez-vous anglais??" and then telling him all my medical story which I had already prepared..
deseases A, B & C when I was a kid...
no I don't remember: I was a kid...
and so on".
Then he asked me for my documentation which I provided to him and, OH SURPRISE: he exclaims "THIS IS NOT VALID" (when it was 100% correct). He meant he wanted to see a picture of myself... to check whether I was using my own documents or not.. but he didn't express it in the right way.........
5. After filling all the papers, then I had to queue for the nurse.... I don't see now the reason because I was already embalmed!!!! In any case, there was just 1 person in the queue for the nurse... she seemed to be Halle Berry but very sick.... and not that pretty.
When my turn came (since it was 1 hour later, I believe my body was already corrupted... ), the nurse was asking me the same questions... I've been asked in the admission desk! but the news is that though I told her I didn't speak French at all, she asked me to say the information in French... FOR GOD SAKE!!!! A ZOMBIE SPEAKING FOREIGN LANGUAGES!!!.. fortunately, "mon nom et mon prènom" don't need to be translated.
So after all I just needed to wait for another nurse to call me.
............... time passed........................... a lot of herb was growing on my tomb......
I understand that wounded people, accidents, internal bleedings pass before I do. I am quite understanding... I also understand that the nurse prioritise depending on how severe the condition of the patient is... BUT WHEN THE MOST HEALTHY PEOPLE THAT HAVE ALSO ARRIVED AFTER ONESELF ARE ASKED TO PASS FIRST, THAT DUDE, THAT MAKES ME GET OUT OF MY TOMB AND COMPLAIN!!!!
While seeing it I was already barking to myself.. in my elementary German, wondering how the conversation would be.
In the very last moment, when I was about to complain, after 3 hours in the hospital.. just waiting... the doctor called me.
6. I don't think that my expenditure in the Luxembourgish social security has been that much: he spent 3 minutes with me. HE DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME ABOUT MY TONSILS, REMOVED WHEN I WAS A CHILD!!! HOW LAMENTABLE!!!
7. But hey guys, the story doesn't finish here. I was running (or was it my fever???), towards the pharmacy because my only thought was "go to bed or you'll be dead in secs", and my ticket for the car was over, of course...
I got into the pharmacy, across the street and ask for all the drugs.. I told the pharmacist that I didn't speak French (yet, there are few people in Luxembourg that don't know that I don't speak French)... and as if she was a wall... she kept talking me in French and explaining me how to take the pills in French.
I paid, I got home and when I opened the boxes.. the prospectus was in Luxembourgish, Dutch and Russian. Good. I am really for universal prospectus in English and local language, or Latin and local language... or we can invent (to not discrimiate anybody) another language, like in The Lord of the Rings.. and use it, teach it at school... because in my case.... the only dose which was clear was the one "for children from 0 to six months"
Maybe I am already ready to come back to Spain: I've lived everything and completed the circle.. :)
Writing from Heaven... greetings for everybody!!!