Happy
70th anniversary. Don’t get me wrong, I love my country, I really
do. I have always been rather proud of my patriotism. It’s just a bit
overwhelming to see the red flags all over the street, and everyone is busy
preparing for all kinds of celebrating parties at work, at school and even at your
communities.

I love
my country. But it doesn’t feel right that you MUST show it and it’s your
obligation to SHOW it. And I think I would certainly love my country more if I could
get treatment and be able to claim my social security in an easier way. Here,
nobody talks about super power, and everyone tells you that we are still in a
developing country and we really should feel appreciate…

I know
it’s a bad timing to bring up this patient-doctor crap but whatever. My husband
exploded again in hospital. I know it’s not a good idea for him to get my
prescription, the hospital always sets him on edge and brings out the worst of
him, but my WBC hit pretty low and I didn’t feel well, so…

The
queen of universe, like always, decided to hold him up for another half an hour
before prescribed. Okay, I am trying to be considerate and put myself in her
shoes. Suppose, I am working at a stressful job, and I have some files to fill.
And a patient shows up and asks for a prescription. Yes, it’s just a minute’s
job. But I need to check out from whatever I am doing. And I know there would
be more showing up, keep misquoting around me, peppering me up with endless
questions. Why not holding him up until everyone else is there so I could
handle them all at once? It’s pretty convenient, right? As for they had to wait
until their legs were shaking, and they probably didn’t have enough time to get
it confirmed (it usually takes half an hour in line) and accounted (another
half an hour), so they probably had to come again at the afternoon. What’s that
fucking business with me? Besides, it’s probably kind of funny to see them all
in line, with suckup and pleading smiles on their faces.

But
this time it’s my husband. He is really not a suck-up guy. So he exploded,
threatening to sue a complaint, and even pretending to live broadcast about it.

Honestly,
nobody dares to offend the doctors—especially the patients like us, our lives literarily
hang in their hands. My husband didn’t care. I’m not sure if it’s right thing to
do, but he got my prescription in time.

I told
him I would not be surprise if one day I didn’t die of the cancer but a medical
accident instead. He laughed. Yeah, I was probably thinking too much.