A quick check

I woke up this morning knowing something was wrong.  I needed to go to the doctor.  I could feel an infection cursing through my body and it required immediate attention.

After letting my husband sleep in for a short while, I woke him up and asked him to take me to the hospital.  He looked at me and explained that it was going to be a challenge to get me the help I needed.  Most medical facilities are closed on Sundays. 

He immediately took to his iPad to find a clinic that was open.  He found one about a 45 minute bike ride from our house.  Riding your bike when you don't feel good is so difficult.  But I gathered my strength and did it anyway. 

We arrived at the clinic shortly after they opened.  My husband kindly directed me where to go and filled out the required forms.  When I was called back to talk with the doctor, my husband once again helped me by translating. 

As we were preparing to leave, my husband casually mentioned that I'll have to find another doctor tomorrow to confirm the diagnosis and give me a full round of antibiotics.  I stopped and asked him to explain what he just said.  He then detailed that going to a clinic on Sunday was just a band aid to get a person through to Monday.  The clinic we went to only gives enough of a prescription to last 24 hours. 

There are major hospitals that are open on Sundays.  We could have traveled further and found one.  But then we would have been paying facility fees and more.

It was an interesting concept to me.  It frustrated me beyond belief because now I have to go somewhere else tomorrow, but at least I got enough antibiotic to last me for a day.