Too Much Fun In The Sun

YOU know when you're feeling under the weather, there's only so much of games and gossips from the social networks that can hold your interest. Fifteen minutes into waiting to see your doctor, you irritably dump the phone into the bag (with a sigh) and start studying the ancient posters of cardiovascular diseases that map the clinic walls. Arms crossed and with impatient foot-tapping at that. I was losing it already after 30 minutes of waiting my turn at my favourite doctor's office today. Dr V is a nice lady with a kind face and gesture. Maybe that's a problem because people tend to like her so much they end up pouring out their life stories to her while I'm outside, staring aimlessly at a cross-section of a human heart for the 100th time. Heartless people. 


Finally at the 40th minute, at the creak of a door, waddled out a vision of horrid pain. He must've been a kid in his early 20s, looking pretty disorientated with all that pain that I could feel for him. Both his legs were swollen out of shape - sort of reminded me of my own after a bee sting. When he moved, he couldn't keep his lower back straight or his legs together. From the frontdesk conversation, I learnt that his mobile phone had ran out of credit and he couldn't make out-going calls. Taxis too, for some reason had refused to drop by the area although it wasn't exactly a peak hour. From the looks of it, he was in no position to even walk out of the clinic. Then came my turn to see Dr V. 


"Hello doctor ! How are you and what's up with him?," I asked with my thumb pointing back at the noisy door. 


"Severe sun burn"


"Oh wow. Really? Too much fun in the sun. The whole body?"


"Just the lower body," said Dr V. 


"Ouccccccch! He's panicking out there. I hear that he lives nearby, if he still can't find a cab, I can drop him home," I offered. 

I know. I know. My dad did tell me not to pick up strangers. But this person couldn't have managed anything to save himself from a bug. Each movement would've probably caused him shooting pain in a thousand different directions. Plus, I can kick and punch and bite. 


After my session with Dr V, I offered the boy-in-pain a drive home, but his condition had also caught another nice person's attention. He was set to go with him.


My diagnosis with Dr V? Apparently I'm an adrenaline junkie who's going through a mean withdrawal. She sent me home with some Dormicum. I suppose counting sheep is not really helping me at this point.