Thanksgiving

Due to illness, all Thanksgiving fun would be cancelled for this year. I told myself, "let's just get to breathing normally again, and then we'll have something to be thankful for later." I don't often talk to myself, but this week it just seemed like the thing to do.

Thanksgiving would be the longest day at the doctor's office. I'm sure my doctor had no idea it was Thanksgiving, seeing as how he is not an American and studied in the UK. He did two nebulizer treatments and an IV treatment before lunch, and asked me to come back mid-afternoon for another before I returned to my home across town (in the cold rain).

So for lunch, I walked a few doors down and had Thanksgiving lunch. Seeing as how I had plans to microwave a frozen burrito for Thanksgiving lunch, this was definitely a step up. I had pan-fried salmon with mashed potatoes and grilled veggies, washed down with an ice-cold Coke. 

Three Chinese men were at one table, with the boss loudly reaming out two of his silent employees.

Four European men sat at another table, cussing like sailors. I wanted to ask them to quit using that four-letter word that was ruining my holiday. But their food came, they started eating, and their conversation slowed down enough to spare my ears.

Apparently all the Americans in town were at home today.

With time to kill, and with a need to get into a place that was slightly less drafty than the restaurant, I went a few more doors down to Starbucks. I was about to sit down with my soy latte when I realized that I should really celebrate and get a manicure! The manicure place is right next door to the doctor's office, in one of the most beautiful nail salons I have ever seen in my life. (It is like a spa, decorated zen-style, with bamboo, stones, sandalwood aromatherapy, and more.) I took my coffee with me and got a manicure.

Then it was time for my 3rd nebulization of the day. After it ended, I told my doctor that it was an unusual but memorable Thanksgiving, and I was thankful for their clinic.

Because if not for their clinic, the Chinese hospital was the only other option, and if that didn't work, emergency air lift to another place would have been the only other option. And this is the fear that people who live in more remote places than me live with. (If this had happened when I lived in Bedrock, it would have been a nightmare.)

So, dear doctor, I don't know much about you or why God brought you young Singaporean doctors here when your own country is so nice. I don't know what you believe, although I heard at least one of you is a Buddhist. But I think you are tools in the hands of God, and I hope someday soon He blesses you with a relationship with Him.