CHRONICLES OF THE DOCTOR’S APPOINTMENT

AND NOW I’M BACK, LIKE I NEVER LEFT!!! Okay these aren’t my words, credit to Macklemore.

I have been gone for so long that my blog picked up more dust than the kalkrand-Hoachanas road in Southern Namibia. Or Arsenal’s trophy cabinet. I got so many reasons as to why that happened but I do not want to be the guy who played the excuse card. Trust me, I missed my blog too. I’ve been gone and at some point, I missed myself too. A lot happened during the last hundreds of days since I last posted but what everyone is talking about, the Corona virus, jeez. It hit us like that bitch slap you didn’t see coming, from the kid you always bullied and now he’s out to get your ass. I mean seriously, a dude apparently ate a freaking Bat and now you can get arrested from leaving your place, there was more toilet paper bought in the last three months that the amount of people in the whole world. On a brighter side though, there’s been new amazing measures put in place. For instance, we don’t have people standing right behind us like they want to whisper the secrets of the illuminati in our ears. I can’t believe we didn’t respect a fact we can all agree on that it is not okay to breathe down my neck in a supermarket. My sincere condolences to everyone who lost a loved one due to the Corona virus.

Okay back to my last couple of days that I want to share with you. So I’ve been spending my days within my dungeon, binge watching anything and everything on Netflix, doing my work when I have gathered enough courage, eating like a mole and sleeping on the couch because my bed has mysteriously become a little colder than usual. There I was, being a lazy chap and occasionally checking for new Tik-Tok videos. Don’t judge me, at least I did not download a dating app, I mean God knows what you will do with the people you are chatting to in this lockdown, do you really miss or like them or are you just bored? You attention hoe you, sies. Someone said relationships are breathing through the wound, I could not agree more. I mean it’s one thing to be in a long distance relationship and not see your person but to have the government tell you that you cannot even attempt to see them or you will be locked up is another. What happened to you cupid victims who vowed to do anything for your loved ones? This is your chance, go out there and bash your way through the road blocks, jump over the barricades like Super Mario. I literally cringed when I read my texts from a couple of months ago, “I’ll do anything for you.” Now I’m here being a prisoner of my own four walls, making a thousand mini trips between the toilet and the kitchen, what a time to be alive.

So on a normal day I started to feel a little weird. You know that feeling you get when you are about to open your University’s portal to see your results? Or your person is typing for seven minutes after they said “We need to talk.”? Yeah, that kind of feeling. My head spinned, my tummy turned, my eyes felt heavy. I ignored the feeling for a few hours but it escalated to a subtle thump, more like the sound you made as you walked through the alleyways of your place, the last time you woke up at 03h45 to go eat the dinner leftovers, shame on you. Me, being a strong independent black young man sat there like, “ah, what’s the worst that could happen? My people survived 400 plus years of slavery and my generation survived a Pineapple on pizza era, what’s a small headache? You gotta give me something big.” But apparently I was never wrong, my head started to sound like hood Hip Hop from the 90s and my veins popped out like the Nile river as seen from the International Space Station.

I scrambled to get myself together while I searched for contacts to the nearest Doctor. I googled my symptom and let’s just say, never ever google your symptoms. I made a few calls and rushed out of my dungeon and headed off to the doctor. I do agree that it was a bad idea to drive myself there. I arrived and the doctor welcomed me. Now, let’s pause, why on earth would you welcome someone at the hospital? I never get that, I mean come on I don’t even wanna be there in the first place, I don’t wanna feel like it’s a normal place to come to at past midnight hours, and why are hospitals always so cold? I dragged my ass in there anyways, I mean I had to, walked past the beautiful doctor who wore her coat and the heart listener which I recently learned that it’s actually a Stethoscope. I should mention that humanity threw away a golden chance to call something a Heart Audience. 

I sat down and scanned the place. My head spinned more than rims on a vintage Chevy in a Snoop Dogg music video from the 90s, my eyes felt like Jennifer Aniston, God took his time on her.  So I was called into the doctor room and the doctor did doctor things, she asked me a thousand questions and wrote in some book in front of her, she ordered me to take my shirt off so she does doctor things on my chest. I held my breath so as not to expose my one pack, wanted my abs to pop out but apparently I was just going to suffocate, holding your breath to not look fat is a very very bad idea, don’t do it. I need to start taking my fitness more serious than how black mothers act when they are summoned to school to come listen to your naughty misbehaving ass. I was told to put my shirt back on and I was relieved because that place was cold, I swear doctors are doing that thing on purpose.

The doctor happened to be some sort of student doctor, after she took the medical history, listened to my heart and did all other doctor things, she called in the master doctor. It looks like after you face the junior doctors, you gotta face off with the master doctor. Well, the master doctor walked in. The master doctor or whatever they call them was an old timid lady with glasses thicker than a Buffalo from the Serengeti national park. Her heart audience had a small flower sticker on it, I found it so cute. She gave me one look, you know how experienced doctors just give you one look and they already know what you need? That’s what happened to me. She said, “He needs a pinch.” And she walked out. I was like, “A What? What on earth is a pinch??”

If there is one thing that I hate more than restaurant menus with no photos, it’s definitely the code language used by doctors. You never know what these people are talking about, you’ll go there to have a small wound on your finger to be treated, and you will be there thinking you are getting the wound dressed up in a few minutes and you hear something like, “Line up the curtains.” Before you know it, you are walking out without your whole forearm. My eyes literally teared up at the thought of what “a pinch” could be.

I thought of my whole life, I lived all my life trying to be a law abiding citizen, being an advocate of aliens, a wine ambassador and a self-proclaimed tripled A-rated Chef and my life had to come to a point where I was faced with the fate of “Apinch”? I thought I was gonna meet the coffin carrying dudes.

She told me to put my shirt back on, and I did. What transpired in the next couple of minutes was a bittersweet feeling, I realized that a pinch was not going to have me walking out of the hospital without my limb or my kidney, it was an injection. What a fucking piece of beautiful painful news. I love to stay alive, but I hate needles with all my nerves. I will admit that my fear of needles and injections sky rockets higher than the edge of the universe. My whole body went numb, I could feel my veins hide between my muscles, my heart sank to the bottom of my thorax cavity and my forehead perspired, an ironic feeling given that my mouth was dryer than the Namib Desert. Why the hell do I have to get a pinch? And I think doctors know that I fear needles because each one always use a new term that I didn’t hear of before. My last encounter, the doctor told the nurse that I apparently needed a shot, okay that was predictable but a pinch? Wow. So I gave the junior doctor a look. You know the look? I bet you do, she didn’t even seem to notice, she pulled out a tray with some syringes and at that moment, I could hear my ancestors shout, “Iyaaaaaaaaa!!!!”  She prepared the syringe, more like a sniper assembling and mounting her gun up, so she can take the enemy out, send him into oblivion.

I rolled my sleeve up but she said, “No, please pull your pants down.” Time literally froze. I was shocked, pants down? Wow, you can’t inject me through my pocket or something? I thought of all the times that I could have boosted my immune system with herbalife products, always thought those herbalife people were harassing me. I thought of telling her, “Let’s not go that route, I will drink enough juice for vitamin C.” but my courage could not let me. I was sold, defeated, dropped into the deep like I’m hot. You are probably thinking that oh this dude hates needles this much? Well, there was something else. See, after I bath, I usually don’t apply lotion on my butt, back or legs especially if I’m wearing long pants, and this was one of those cases where I hadn’t applied lotion on my butt. So, I knew that my ass was all ashy and crackled like that time it didn’t rain for 2 years in Namibia. My skin was so dry you could pour water on it and it would disappear just to moisten the skin. I reluctantly unbuckled my belt and rolled that zip down, I turned around and I swear I shed a nigga tear thinking of what the poor junior doctor was about to see, so early in her career, shame. I dropped those jeans down like a skrr skrr nigga dropping a mix tape mumbling like a feeding Hippo,  and I heard her say “Damn.”, the small room filled with a bit of dust and I feared for her life, I knew we both needed doctors at that moment because there was no way in hell she was going to survive seeing such an ashy butt like that. She let out a cough, I mean who wouldn’t? After all that dust engulfing the place like you are looking at a cement factory. She gathered her courage, I think, and went on to inject my nigga butt. I clenched my jaws as “the pinch” gave me a taste of its own medicine.

Guys, I know how we always tend to disagree on so many things because opinions, differences and all that, but I will ask of you this one favor, let’s agree on one thing. You can pour milk in the bowl before the cereal, you can add pineapple on Pizza, you can talk bad about avocado, you can even say Drake is better than Tupac, it will all be forgiven one way or the other, we will probably agree to disagree. What you will not do is turn up at the hospital with an ashy ass cause you don’t wanna hear “crklcrklcrkl” as the doctor rubs your butt cheek to deliver that pinch. It hurts your ears and her eyesight, you are bad for humanity! You should be locked up. You need to pay dust tax!! I hope she’s fine, that she is recovering from what she just saw.

Anyways, I woke up a few hours later and I felt so high, not to sound cliché but whatever they gave me was one hell of a shot, and rightfully so, I woke up soaring with the eagles, enjoying a bird view of the city.

I am recovering well, thanks to everyone who wished me a speedy recovery. And once again, BLUE SHORT PANTS IS BACK MF!!!!