How we did not see Princess Magogo
Princess Magogo sounded like such an exciting opera - the lead role was being sung by a tlented African singer, and the entire production was being funded by a man who as a condition of his financial support insisted in being *in* the cast for the next 10 years, and who does not actually happen to be a singer. It was at an amphitheatre, and we could have looked at the stage and at the stars, and have had a fantastic time.
Unfortunately, we spent the evening in quite a different fashion:
By Friday afternoon, after a healthy lunch and a bit of shopping in the pedestrian St. George Mall (Purses from Nepal. That is all there is to say), sister and I started to feel a bit queasy. We rented our adorable Nissan Micra and motored as far as Stellenbosch, and somehow managed to rent a B&B and get TO the B&B, and after that we were *violently* ill. One, the other, then back to the first one. The room we were in was like a sauna. We had paid for airconditioning and we had fevers and there wasn't air conditioning...
So, we changed rooms, and were *violently* ill some more...
Doesn’t that sound dramatic? Well, it was so unpleasant that we managed to stagger back to the car and to the hospital. Yes, it is South Africa. Yes, it is in some ways a 3rd world country. But this was a private clinic, and when sis had cut her finger a few weeks ago we received really good care at a private clinic.
First, they refused to let us stay together (we made a fuss about it for a while, but then decided that it was not worth it). When sister received a nausea shot the nurse didn’t clean her hands, and took the cap off the needle with her mouth. When I needed a bucket for…well, just in case, they handed me the garbage can off the floor. What was IN the bin? Among the dirty rags there was a used blood and fluid bag, and a syringe. I told the nurse that she must have something else that I could use (the place was almost empty, and the nurses were all just chatting), and she said that was all I could have. I said that I NEEDED one NOW and that I would use the one in the next bed. She blocked my path to that garbage can and announced that it was for that bed and I was not assigned that bed and that I had to get back into my bed immediately, and if I had a problem with that garbage can I could puke above it.
Well, did you know? Anger delays nausea! I marched to the front and complained, and she emptied out HER garbage can and offered it to me.
I did not puke at the hospital.
Sis and I lay in bed for all of the next day, getting all thin and interesting. We did very little the day after that, and ate a bit yesterday.
Not the ideal vacation, and we are glad to be back.
Unfortunately, we spent the evening in quite a different fashion:
By Friday afternoon, after a healthy lunch and a bit of shopping in the pedestrian St. George Mall (Purses from Nepal. That is all there is to say), sister and I started to feel a bit queasy. We rented our adorable Nissan Micra and motored as far as Stellenbosch, and somehow managed to rent a B&B and get TO the B&B, and after that we were *violently* ill. One, the other, then back to the first one. The room we were in was like a sauna. We had paid for airconditioning and we had fevers and there wasn't air conditioning...
So, we changed rooms, and were *violently* ill some more...
Doesn’t that sound dramatic? Well, it was so unpleasant that we managed to stagger back to the car and to the hospital. Yes, it is South Africa. Yes, it is in some ways a 3rd world country. But this was a private clinic, and when sis had cut her finger a few weeks ago we received really good care at a private clinic.
First, they refused to let us stay together (we made a fuss about it for a while, but then decided that it was not worth it). When sister received a nausea shot the nurse didn’t clean her hands, and took the cap off the needle with her mouth. When I needed a bucket for…well, just in case, they handed me the garbage can off the floor. What was IN the bin? Among the dirty rags there was a used blood and fluid bag, and a syringe. I told the nurse that she must have something else that I could use (the place was almost empty, and the nurses were all just chatting), and she said that was all I could have. I said that I NEEDED one NOW and that I would use the one in the next bed. She blocked my path to that garbage can and announced that it was for that bed and I was not assigned that bed and that I had to get back into my bed immediately, and if I had a problem with that garbage can I could puke above it.
Well, did you know? Anger delays nausea! I marched to the front and complained, and she emptied out HER garbage can and offered it to me.
I did not puke at the hospital.
Sis and I lay in bed for all of the next day, getting all thin and interesting. We did very little the day after that, and ate a bit yesterday.
Not the ideal vacation, and we are glad to be back.
posted by Melamondiale @ 11:10 PM
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