Pic: ::big daddy k:: on Flickr.comBy Ayanda Mhlanga
It started with a worsening eye-infection, which resulted in me heading to the doctor for aid. For the first time I stopped to think, how mean some people are. I walked inside the consulting room, weepy eye and all; the dear man made me wait before attending to me even though he was available.
When enquiring of the cause of my little eye infection, he responded, “It’s an infection, how do you get an infection?” I kept quiet after that, feeling a bit small. Later, when I asked if it was contagious he responded, “Well, it’s an infection, how do you think you got it?” I felt both very small and utterly stupid by then, and took the script and left, not knowing how to prevent getting the horrible infection again, but knowing that I couldn’t go tutoring as it was probably contagious and could infect the kids. I didn’t receive a sick note, but I did not mind because I assumed the good ‘ol doctor reckoned I was well in enough to be in public. I reconsidered this assumption when my tears turned green and I was gripped by a headache. I was left walking around, covering my green eye and in great pain.
This led me to the conclusion, that Dr Nasty should take some off days, or stop practising, as he really ruined a nice girl’s day, and could be considered a hazard to society by possibly spreading a horrid eye infection.
I was sick, but I still managed to be civil.
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