Hey, I gotta keep this blogging thing going, don't I? You wouldn't think it would be that hard. I guess I've just got to get focused, get my game face on. What do I want to accomplish here, anyway? I suppose I kind of want to get it all off my chest, release the buildup of experiences and information that accumulate when you live, when you live in a city, and when you live in a foreign city. Tons of things happen everyday, things many people would rather hear about than the dribble they see on CNN and Fox. And I'll be honest, I'm not in all the places of the former, and as for the latter, I decide what gets reported and spin it as I like. This is all free of charge, too.Any of you out there ever had a parasite? Not like a leech that latched onto you when you were rock bass fishing or putting rice plants in your paddy. I mean like an amoeba, or some worm or critter that finds its way into your system. I lived 5 years in Honduras and never had a hint of a bug. I'm in Costa Rica barely 2 years, and I've been hit like three times. It's a humbling experience. It's uncomfortable, and you feel drained all the time, no energy. When I had one in January, I deserved it, because I was hotdogging it in front of North American visitors, drinking the water right out of the tap. And You can do that in Costa Rica, but not at a camp where the water comes out of the local stream. I got back from Camp Hotdog, and a couple of weeks later, I paid the piper. Eventually I paid the pharmacist, and a few tablets cleared that up. When I got hit again later this year, though, it was more of a mystery.
Since I hadn't been sipping stream water, I thought I better get a lab check before I did any self-medicating. Did any of you ever watch "Quincy" with Jack Klugman years ago? I loved it when he would say, "Sam, get this down to the lab, and get back with me right away. C'maann, Saaam, dis' is impawrtant!!!" I wish I had a Sam to say that to, but here in Costa Rica, everyone carries their own lab cup, and that only after you buy it in the local drugstore and adorn it at home. I had carefully orchestrated my steps so as to be on public transportation the minimum time necessary with my cargo. It all turned out for naught, though, as the results came back negative. When I then decided to treat my symptoms to cheer myself up, the pharmacist (they pose as prescribing doctors here) assured me that a negative test didn't mean that I didn't have an intestinal visitor. Do you think you know more than a pharmacist? So I bought some worm pills, it turns out. I found that out when I finally visited the doctor.
The doctor, of course, asked me to get some new lab results. That meant another trip on the bus, smuggling contraband in my backpack. It also meant a new encounter with a pharmacist. I looked for a different drugstore, and resolved not to volunteer any unnecessary information that might compromise my rugged veneer. Just my luck, only one other customer in the store, a young woman, and the pharmacist was a gal, too. I waited my turn and toyed with the idea of dashing out of the store. But then they would all know for certain that I had a paramecium or something. When she turned to attend to me, the other muchacha was still arranging her purse, so I know she overheard me. "May I help you?" "Yeah, I need a cup for a lab specimen." "What kind of lab cup?" Dang. The last druggist had given me some options, and I just said, "sure, that's fine." Now this one was pushing me to the wall, making me spill my guts. "One for feces....please." It sounds better and very natural when you say it in Spanish, please believe me. I didn't perceive that she necessarily viewed me as any less rugged in that moment, so she must have been a real professional. I paid my money and made a hasty retreat.
Well, this long story needs to finish, and you've probably had all the details you can stomach. With this blogging, I'm like a guy who doesn't have much money for a haircut, and so goes from Ted Nugent to Telly Savalas every 6 months. I got more results at the lab, all negative, and so the doctor is treating me as if I had a parasite anyway. I feel better, and I know the doctor does, too, since he has lots of funny stories at my expense. The one he liked the best was when I told him that I had been taking Phillips Milk of Magnesia. I had mistakenly purchased that when a medical school student friend of mine in Honduras suggested aluminum magnesia to help my stomach symptoms. Now I know the difference, and my doctor knows me as the guy who was taking the home remedy of purging himself with a laxative to flush out a parasite.
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