A Brave New Year - Part II

So, what do you guess could happen to Teshik on Friday?

a) missed lessons at Uni
b) missed doctor appointment
c) moderately severe bodily injury
d) people getting bitchy at Teshik for no good reason whatsoever
e) random encounters with borderline shizophrenic muppets
f) disgusting bodily fluids or
g) all of the above?

Bah, why half-assing things? "all of the above" it is.

Friday.

1.07 a.m. I wake up, look at my alarm clock, want to roll over, but I get a cramp in my foot. Hrmpf. That's uncomforta---

Mmf.
Hrmfl.
Hey, I have the taste of carpet in my mouth.
And I'm in the bathroom all of a sudden.
I'm lying in the bathroom, wedged between the toilet and the radiator.
Oh, I just realize, being in close proximity to a toilet bowl is absolutely great because *BLEAAAARGH!*

So, shortly after that, while I am merrily vomiting out my dinner, I notice that there's something in my face. Oh. Red. Red is not a good color right now. *BLEARGH*. I mean, seeing as our bathroom is predominantly green. *BLEARGH* And the corresponding red smears on the radiator aren't encouraging either. *BLEARGH* God, is that lunch on its way back already? Hm. You'd think as overcooked as the fish was, It wouldn't take him that long to be digested. *BLEARGH* Oh Ick. I just vomited out a roasted potato bit. Through my fucking NOSE! Disgusting! *BLEARGH* I am so not a happy camper right now. *BLEARGH* And considering that clock over there, I seem to miss about an hour of my life. *BLEARGH* I'm kinda hoping I can forget about this particular hour, too, though. *BLEARGH*

Finally, some pause on the vomiting. Oh, the other end wants to participate in the fun now, too! Great! (I'll spare you the sound effects of that one.). After that, I just hadn't had the nerve to check on the bleeding, because passing out on the floor seemed like such a good idea at the time. Plus, why trying to head back into my bedroom when I have to repeat the process every half hour anyway? And It's so comfy down there...

At about five o'clock in the morning, I realized several things:
1) The bleeding on my forehead stopped, but now my nose is swelling.
2) After you vomited out the contents of your gall bladder, there's nothing that can follow. (Actually, I already had learned this the hard way when I was 12, and nearly died because some shithead thought cleaning the toilets in a youth hostel is optional. But that's a story for another time.)
3) My body, even though he can't anymore, still thinks shitting and vomiting is teh bestest idea eva.
4) I must have passed out standing in our bathroom just in front of the toilet, and then crashed right against the radiator while unconscious. This also explains the memory loss and the wobbly feeling in my head. And the quite large gash on my left leg and the forming black spot on my hip.
5) I am now no longer able to stand, due to the niceties of the Norovirus fucking around with my blood pressure, and the now quite severe dehydration.
6) my dad won't get home for at least another hour to help me.
7) The floor, so comfy...

An hour later:
Dad: Teshik? Hello?
Teshik: Erh. mrhfl. dadd...dedme thoa hofpitel. im bweeding and im vomm...vommettg.
My dad says nothing, just grabs me, inspects my nose, and doesn't take me to a hospital as wished, just stuffing me back into my bed.
(Well, we are barely able to communicate with each other at the best of days, so he'll get a pass on that one.)
Plus, he gets me camomile tea. I protest weakly, because I just really really hate this part, even though I know it's coming: for the next 24 hours, it's Fun With Rehydration Time. Which means, stuff tea down your throat, hate it, vomit it out after five to fifteen minutes, and hope in the time you have just absorbed a miniscule drop of the tea you just drank. Lather, rinse, repeat. Can't I just go to the hospital and get a nice IV drip, or ten, and while we're at it, some dreamland pills? No? Crap. Oh well. At least, the dreamland pills won't be necessary, thanks to that awesome idea of getting myself two concussions in rapid succession, I had the prestige to be very...erm. Let's just say, that while my parents or my sister weren't at home that day, I still enjoyed the company of many, many colorful characters. Hallucinations included, but were not limited to:

The Little Prince: Naah-Nah-Na-Na-Nah-Nah-Nah-Nah-Na-Katamari-Damashii (Just imagine the soundtrack as a constant background noise.)
*BLEARGH*
Count von Count: That's TWO! TWO concussions on your head! A hah hah!
*BLEARGH*
Telekom Teledat 302: bee-dee-dee-bah-ding!
*BLEARGH*
The Three Sisters: Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air.
*BLEARGH*
Me: Three Sisters? Oh no. Ooohh No!
*BLEARGH*
Phoebe: Oh yes. You know you want me little coma patient!
*BLEARGH*
Piper: Do you know how many months you're now behind on your fanfiction? Do you? Because, Mister, me and The Hands are getting pissed. And your fans are, too!
*BLEARGH*
Me: I know...wait, all my fans? You, mean, both of them?
*BLEARGH*
Piper: Err...Yes.
*BLEARGH*
Miss Pig-tronius: Why, if you'd only been more helpful at that seminar! I almost had to do work on it all by myself! Moi!
*BLEARGH*
Me: I know you're just a hallucination, but, could you shave the goatee off? It's kind of clashing with the pink clothes. and the female-muppet-ness.
*BLEARGH*

I swear, if it wasn't for the headache, the fever and the constant vomiting, I'd've had the time of my life.

At about 16.15, Our phone rings. I think it's my Dad, who just went off visiting Mom, who forgot something. Otherwise I wouldn't even go near that phone, because who wants to hear my heaves because they happen to call at an inopportune time?

Me: Hello?
Female Voice: Hello, this is the Urology office. Your operation appointment is on Monday, at 13.00.
Me: Oh, erm...sorry, but...I can't take this appointment, I'm sick. And I'm sure I will be still sick on Monday, too.
FV: Okay. But you are aware that the doctor's out of office for the next six weeks? I won't be able to get you a new appointment till then.
Me: Well, it's not exactly like I want to miss the operation, it's just that I can't. Can I...can I just phone you for a new appointment sometimes next week or so? Just...take me off the schedule for now.
FV: *does stuff on her PC* Done. We'll wait until next week then for the new appointment, right?
Me: Yes. Thanks.
FV: No problem. Oh, and get well soon.

Please note, that the conversation above was held in a very friendly, polite tone of voice. Because of this, I was really surprised afterwards. Why? The woman in question didn't put the receiver on her phone in the right way, meaning the call wasn't terminated, and I could hear the following conversation:
Suddenly Bitchy FV: *Mega-Sigh of Exasperation and Annoyance* God.
Female Coworker: What is it?
SBFV: Oh that one I just called, I gave him the appointment for Monday, and NOW he tells me he's sick and can't take it.
FC: Oh.
SBFV: And NOW I have to call [some name] again and tell her she can get here an hour earlier, even though I had told her 15.00 before.
FC: (not really listening) Yeah, that sucks.
SBFV: I mean, can't those people use the phone? Is that so hard? The nerve of...
FC: Oh! The pho---*click*
"...ne is still on, and I'm able to hear every fucking word of you dissing me?" Yeah, that must be it!
I lay on the couch, the tea thermos in one hand, the receiver in the other, the vomit bowl on the floor, and thought at first, no way. No way that woman really was that rude. But she was. And I was pissed at her.
Because, First of all, that's your fucking JOB. Deal with it.
Then, it's one lousy phone call to one guy, and scheduling a new appointment with me. It's not exactly hard, or exceptional work for a receptionist.
And getting sick happens.
Furthermore, if I happen to get sick, I will call maybe my girlfriend and the inner family circle.
"That desk clerk lady of my urologist" isn't exactly high on that list of priorities.
I think what pissed me off most was the...Well, we Germans call that one "Hinterfotzigkeit" (vulgar. More polite Germans call it "Hinterhältigkeit", but I'm not one of them). I think it's kinda more expressive and melodious than the English word "underhandedness", because underhandedness still sounds very polite and neutral to my ears. I mean, if you are annoyed that I didn't call you? SAY SO. But don't bitch behind my back, because that's just cheap and low. Or at least, don't be too stupid to put the damn receiver on your phone.

You know, these are the kind of people that always make me wonder if we actually both belong to the same species, or if my alien parents dropped me off on this planet because they really, really, REALLY hated me.
And which kinda makes me hope that, once my fifteen K'roktars of detention are over, my podmother will zoom over in her spaceship, embrace me with her gentle and moist tentacles, and tell me, because I had been such a good little Brobl'arx youngling, Dad will let me use the Death Ray tomorrow. Ah. Dreams.

Continued here.