I've been sick for the couple of days. I get nauseous in the morning and basically spends the rest of the night throwing up and tossing, turning on my bed. I was worried sick. All I could think about was CANCER AT 25, CANCER AT 25, CANCER AT 25!!! I know, I know. I can't help it. If you've been throwing up stuff with wispy traces of blood in it, you'd think of the same thing.
I dunno which is worse, driving myself to the wall worrying or feeling generally sick. Paranoid fuckwit that I am, I resolved to haul my ass to the hospital and have a little consultation with the doctor as soon as I recover. Yesterday, I was supposed to have my check up but I was still feeling a teensy-bit sick so I decided to do it the day after and just went home to rest.
My landlady saw me coming in and told me that her son is gonna celebrate his birthday and sent word that he wanted to invite us in. Fast-forward 8 PM that evening, I was idly eating my share of Chicken Cordon Bleu at the party and I was approached by the land lady. She asked me why I went home early. I told her that I was having a mysterious ailment and was in no shape to work. Upon hearing this, she motioned for a guy sitting across the room to come near, introduced us to that guy, told him of my troubles and surprise of all surprises, he turns out to be a doctor specializing in Internal Medicine, what are the odds, right?
To make the long story short, I got a free consultation and he listed down a few meds that I needed to take. Initially, I thought it might be Anemia or Low Blood Pressure but turns out it was good ol' Gastritis. So there. I was relieved because not only did that encounter saved me some dough, it also gave me peace of mind as well as saving me the trouble of heading to a hospital, something I'm not looking forward on doing. I'm so freakin' glad I decided to attend that party!
Though I'm far from being completely healed, I've recovered. Some sort of.
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