Friday, September 7, 2007


So My aunt thinks I have Amoebas and the doctor thinks I might have gastritis. I think amoebic dysentery sounds way more exciting. Either way I get to have a camera "eased" down my throat to check out my stomach. I better at least get a picture or a t-shirt or something.

I went to the free Cuban clinic. That's not what it's called, but it was staffed by Cuban doctors. They get their own, much nicer, wing because the Venezuelan doctors don't treat them very nicely. One way the Venezuelans protest the Chavez government is to not show up to work. They go one vacation. People like my mom, who has a very serious, potentially life threatening heart condition, can´t see specialists because they're angry and their patients aren't a priority. Who knows.

It was interesting. There were people waiting in no particular line. I asked who was last to come and made sure I went in after them. It went pretty quick even though there was only one doctor in general medicine. I still had to hang out there for the whole day because my mom and my aunt had to wait forever to see the ophthalmologist because they had to see a few emergency cases before them. People waiting were so friendly and talkative, but that's just Venezuelans in general.

That was my day. No more beer. Not allowed. It's nice that people get free medical treatment. Less stress. I fucked up my credit because I didn't have medical insurance, like millions upon millions of United Statesians. It sucks. It really does. It lowers your quality of life. So much for those basic human rights.

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