recovery
I’ve taken my third roxithromycin tablet today, after a visit to the doctor back on Friday. They’re a one-a-day tablet, I think a broad spectrum antibiotic, and boy have they proved effective. There’s only five in the whole course, though I could buy a repeat dose just to make sure.
I’ve only ever paid two visits to my new regular doctor, five minutes’ walk away. She reminded me that my previous, first visit was in July last year, with the same complaint.
In the last day or two, particularly today, my energy has returned almost to normal. I have lots of catching up to do. Mid-week I was languishing on the sofa, drifting in and out of consciousness, exhausted by mid-afternoon after hours of hawking and heavy breathing. Only the other day I’d drifted off, and woke in a sudden fright at a minatory female voice. Sarah was standing in the middle of the living room. ‘You really shouldn’t leave your front door open like that, I could be anybody coming in, bopping you on the head and making off with all your worldlies.’
‘That reminds me, I need to make the point for the court case that we both live in an open house, with you coming in and out at all hours without knocking. Remember, he says I did it here during the day.’
‘Ah yes, that’s a point,’ she responded sympathetically.
I’m trying to avoid talking to her about the case – I’m sure she’s sick of my obsession with it. In fact I probably need to give it a rest myself. I do feel myself calming down as my strength is returning. I may even yet come to the point of addressing my slow slide into poverty since the boy brought my foster-caring career to a crashing halt. Currently I’m in trouble with Centrelink, because a little while after I was arrested and probably after I fell ill too I missed an appointment with my employment agency. Nobody’s been in touch with me since, but no doubt the wheels are grinding inexorably on.
I’m certainly being a very good boy in terms of voluntary work, however. Quite apart from my work for La Luna, which is quite considerable really, and which would itself be enough to satisfy the mutual obligation watchdogs, I’ve joined a team at the Adelaide South West Community Centre, and I’ve promised to do reception work there on Tuesday, all day. Impossibly, though, I’ve booked myself to do an orientation session on the same day at Red Cross House, as a volunteer IT assistant consultant. At my interview there a couple of weeks ago I was surprised to hear that about eighty percent of the people working in that building are volunteers. They all looked pleasantly middle-class and well-to-do (but then again so do I). Can it be that they’re all on the dole, comme moi?
I’ve only ever paid two visits to my new regular doctor, five minutes’ walk away. She reminded me that my previous, first visit was in July last year, with the same complaint.
In the last day or two, particularly today, my energy has returned almost to normal. I have lots of catching up to do. Mid-week I was languishing on the sofa, drifting in and out of consciousness, exhausted by mid-afternoon after hours of hawking and heavy breathing. Only the other day I’d drifted off, and woke in a sudden fright at a minatory female voice. Sarah was standing in the middle of the living room. ‘You really shouldn’t leave your front door open like that, I could be anybody coming in, bopping you on the head and making off with all your worldlies.’
‘That reminds me, I need to make the point for the court case that we both live in an open house, with you coming in and out at all hours without knocking. Remember, he says I did it here during the day.’
‘Ah yes, that’s a point,’ she responded sympathetically.
I’m trying to avoid talking to her about the case – I’m sure she’s sick of my obsession with it. In fact I probably need to give it a rest myself. I do feel myself calming down as my strength is returning. I may even yet come to the point of addressing my slow slide into poverty since the boy brought my foster-caring career to a crashing halt. Currently I’m in trouble with Centrelink, because a little while after I was arrested and probably after I fell ill too I missed an appointment with my employment agency. Nobody’s been in touch with me since, but no doubt the wheels are grinding inexorably on.
I’m certainly being a very good boy in terms of voluntary work, however. Quite apart from my work for La Luna, which is quite considerable really, and which would itself be enough to satisfy the mutual obligation watchdogs, I’ve joined a team at the Adelaide South West Community Centre, and I’ve promised to do reception work there on Tuesday, all day. Impossibly, though, I’ve booked myself to do an orientation session on the same day at Red Cross House, as a volunteer IT assistant consultant. At my interview there a couple of weeks ago I was surprised to hear that about eighty percent of the people working in that building are volunteers. They all looked pleasantly middle-class and well-to-do (but then again so do I). Can it be that they’re all on the dole, comme moi?
posted by Stewart at 9:35 pm
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