Doctors and Fairy Dust

The only thing worse than going to the doctor is going to the doctor in a foreign country. Ok, not really... but it's pretty gruesome. The other morning, I had a doctor's appointment, and I couldn't help but laugh, the whole experience being so typical German.*

First of all, a little old man and a little old lady (complete strangers) got into a fight in the waiting room, which was completely ridiculous. Maybe if we were a little more polite (or chivalrous, perhaps?), such public arguments wouldn't be so common.

Then, after my appointment, as I was putting my shirt back on, the doctor rushed out and left the door wide open, allowing everyone in the waiting room to watch me change my clothes. Yes, I had a spaghetti-strapped-under-shirt on, but still. What about that little thing called privacy?

*shrugs her shoulders*

So I've had a slight "issue" for the past year or so, and I've been to the doctor here three times, and nothing he's suggested or prescribed is working. I think he's prescribing me sugar placebo pills. Or fairy dust. Or dragon tears. And nothing is happening. Which is why my Mom made me an appointment in August (when I'll be home) with a, em, real doctor.


*sorry, to my Dear German Readers... but that's just the way it is. :)