Heading South (Part 1)

Mendoza Travel Blog

 › entry 31 of 38 › view all entries
After both an emergency room doctor and a blood/urine test declared that I was perfectly healthy, I was beginning to feel a little embarassed by all of the dramatics surrounding an illness that in Canada I would have treated by heading straight to bed and staying there until I felt better. Instead, I found myself on Monday evening, still tired but feeling much more spritely, in a taxi with my mother, father, and language school teacher heading to a specialist doctor. The taxi stopped infront of a large, suburban house bedecked with big gold name plates announcing the name of the doctor. We were buzzed through a security gate and let into a small waiting room with padded benches. As I sat there looking at the impressive degrees and art on the wall, I began to feel exceedingly ridiculous. I was not suffering from anything that a few days of rest would not solve and my entourage was larger than a common cold warranted. I was probably just exhausted from my time in the jungle and my bus ride to Argentina. I told mom that I wanted to leave but the door opened and a middle aged Argentinian doctor ushered me (and mom and Susanne, the language instructor) inside. The room resembled a personal office with the addition of an examination table. The doctor sat behind his desk and asked questions about my symptoms and medical history while Susanne, translated anything I didnĀ“t understand. When the doctor saw the marks on my stomach and legs that, I had assumed were bug bites, he claimed that they were caused by my illness and within twenty minutes had sent me out the door with two perscriptions and the assurances that I had been right to come.
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photo by: montecarlostar