Sick Blogging

As I am sure anyone who has seen me at my illest (and not the good kind of illin', I'm afraid) can attest, I can be...a bit of a bear when I am sick. It's probably a good idea to leave me alone, but I'll be honest: nothing makes me more of a mama's boy than being sick. And you guys, I was MAD sick the last couple of days.

It started on Tuesday. I wasn't feeling great when I woke up, and after having to deal with a class of (almost exclusively) 6th grade girls, I was about ready to die. And then the body aches started. As the afternoon wore on, I found progressively more ingenious ways to lay down at my desk without it looking to anyone passing by that I was laying down. Not that anyone passed by. And not that they would not have looked in and gone "WTF is he doing in there???"

I believe at one point, I was on the floor, with my head in the chair. Why I didn't just lay down is beyond me, but my fevered brain decided that this was a good idea, so I just went with it.

Another thing I'm particularly good at when I'm really sick is convincing myself that I will be okay if I just go home and sleep, and that I will be able to go to work the next day. This is pretty empirically false, but I keep on believing. Even as I was staggering home, noticing that the colors were in much sharper contrast than normal, sweating profusely, walking in nothing that could be considered close to a straight line, I just KNEW that if I only slept a lot that night, I'd be fine the next day.

 This was the view from my walk home.

Cut to the next morning, after a horrible night's sleep from which I was constantly woken thanks to the pain in every one of my joints and my throat. I finally decided two things: a) I needed to go to the doctor, and b) I would not be going into work that day.

Of course, it's August, and it FEELS like august outside, so not only am I miserably wracked with fever, but it's also abysmally hot and uncomfortable outside. So I'm trudging my way over to the taxi stand to get a ride to the hospital when I hear air raid sirens go off.

"Well crap," I think to myself. "I'm gonna die here. Wonderful."

Undeterred by the impending North Korean-caused death, I make it to a taxi and ask him, in pitiful Korean, to take me to the hospital. Once he finally understands where I want to go, he declares that he cannot take me there. At this point, I nearly break down. What do you mean you can't take me? I just need to go like a half a mile and YOU CAN'T TAKE ME??? THIS IS A TAXICAB JUST DRIVE!

Meltdown. But without a Joe to keep me from going literally insane.

But instead, he makes me get out of the cab and I end up walking to the hospital (which is where you go in Korea to see the doctor). In the heat. It's a miracle I actually survived the trip, but I did, and I got diagnosed with tonsillitis, and I was given my prescription for lots of drugs.

Lots of drugs for low, low prices!

Oh and I got a shot in the a**. Yes, that's right folks, when you go to the doctor in Korea, no matter what ails you, you will leave with a shot in the a**. But hey. Whatever gets the meds into me the fastest is fine by me.

And, to top it all off, it was SUPER cheap. Only about 18000 won for the whole deal - examination, prescriptions filled, shot in the a** - which equals about $15. Hooray for socialism or whatever! But SUPER hooray for health insurance.

Anyway, I'm back teaching today. Which means my throat feels like it is on fire, and I mostly want to go back to bed. But I will have all weekend for that, so whatever. Here I will hang out for a little bit longer. And try not to die.