Yesterday I was forced to use the Spanish equivalent of a popular medication to alleviate certain distressing GI Tract symptoms. I went to a Spanish pharmacy and spoke to a Spanish pharmacist about these symptoms. I speak enough Spanish to really screw everything up if my restaurant ordering-and-food-receiving experiences are any indication. I was kind of able to make myself understood and I kind of understood what was being relayed to me, relying on a series of facial expressions and sound effects and hand gestures. I got home with the medication.
"Did you get it?" SuperK asked.
This would have been an excellent follow-up question from the old days, except I would have been returning home with coke or pot or worm-infested mescal, relieved that I hadn't been arrested and thrown in jail for 10 years by venomously trash-talking gendarmes.
"I did," I replied. "I think. God help us all if I got the medicine for the other situation that occurs sometimes in that general area of the body."
"Did you make some good facial expressions?" she said. "And some noises?"
I was vaguely worried that I got something which would make my already distressing symptoms worse. It would be like throwing up a lot and then getting something that made you throw up more. The hair is standing up on the nape of my neck just thinking about it.
SuperK was in good shape in this particular department - and I'm sure she's happy that I'm passing that along - but she has been unable to fall asleep. Actually, she falls asleep so quickly that you might think I'd hit her with a bat - which I have NOT done - but she can't stay asleep. I have trouble falling asleep but after that she could hit me with a bat and I wouldn't wake up.
Full disclosure: we don't even own a bat and I did get the right medication.
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