post-post trauma

i passed out quickly after posting, but woke up 45 minutes later to spend half an hour coughing, choking, throwing up (i'm still amazed that i didn't pop any blood vessels) and being extremely unhappy about life. eventually i got desperate and took a taxi to the city officer (not an entirely pleasant experience), and after waking up the medic and being tested, got sent off in an ambulance to the emergency unit at ichilov.

that might sound a little more dramatic than it is... that's what happens when there's no actual doctor around. an israeli emergency unit works like any other israeli service: if you don't make yourself heard, you don't get treated. i was dizzy and delusional, hurting everywhere, and my communication skills were severely lacking.

i arrived there at 4am, had a blood test (they left the needle in my arm, then couldn't figure out why i was loathe to bend it), an x-ray (the cow refused to help me remove my chain, but they did let me keep the piercing in), and then spent the next half-hour freezing under a blanket until the doctor came back to release me.

she'd given me a prescription for codeine (um. yay?), and the woman who released me told me that i was acting suspiciously by asking where i could find an open pharmacy. if anyone can explain to me why asking for a pharmacy when you've just been released from emergency at 5.30am is suspicious, please enlighten me.

the walk home via the pharmacy was an absurdly slow and painful half-hour, the fever coupled with the sore muscles from the race made for slow and unsteady going.

-- passing out, possible heat stroke --

spot woke me up at 5pm. later on i sat with them watching running scared and eating the kid's chicken concoction with cold rice, but i was sent packing back to my room when our neighbour began ringing our doorbell repeatedly then walked in making more noise than my headache could bear.

i slept until this afternoon, did laundry and just came back from shopping for chicken soup and fruit juice. today i've had the chance to catch up on net news, and realize that my room's not just untidy, it's frighteningly dusty and i desperately need to buy a vacuum cleaner.

arguing with my mother over antibiotics is unpleasant. i'll admit to finding it strange that the doctor diagnosed me with an infection (throat or chest, i don't remember) and didn't prescribe any, but i'm not going back to the C.O. unless i'm feeling desperate again.

from the pillow fight