Tuesday 11 November 2003

Pic of the day: How I visualize the drunk homesick exchange student who sits in my PC and tries to type what I talk to it. (Screenshot from The Sims. Text added by me. "Konnichiwa" (in Japanese) = "Hello", "Good afternoon".)

Sick leave

If there had been any doubt in my mind, yesterday took care of that. So today, before 11AM, I sat at the local Health Center waiting for my doctor. Well, actually my regular doctor was away today (it was Refugee Day, according to the secretary) but a temporary replacement was available. I don't know if he was a refugee, but he was certainly not Norwegian.

For those not familiar with Norwegian health care, the expression "my regular doctor" does not mean the same as in other free countries. As I have mentioned before, here in Norway health care is kind of a preserve for Stalinism. While we have a vibrant market economy in almost anything else, our health care would make any old and dying Communist weep with joy. And possibly with pain, since it is hardly the most efficient way to organize health care. Anyway, the local governments appoints a fixed doctor for you. Fixed as in immovable. You may apply for another doctor, but you better have reasons, and there is still no guarantee that your humble plea will be met with approval. In a real Stalinist society this system would open for large scale corruption; but luckily, we are all Norwegians here. Created in God's image, we just don't do things like that. You can ask any doctor or any bureaucrat you want, and they will confirm that there is absolutely no corruption or bribery. Never has been, never will be. Oh, the joy of belonging to a superior race! (What? Sarcastic? Me?)

The doctor did not speak much, but he clearly understood Norwegian. He also on his own initiative glanced at my recent records. He agreed with my opinion that my gastro-intestinal troubles ought to influence the choice of painkillers, if any. His conclusion was quite smart; it must have been, since even I had not thought about it... So now I have a painkiller gel to massage into the skin on my hand and arm. It is a nonsteroid anti-inflammatory drug called ketoprofen, which I have never tried (or even seen) before. (Evidently the Oriental exchange student hiding in my computer has heard of it, though! My speech recognition software may have trouble with ordinary words, but not with ketoprofen.)

The nice thing about administering painkillers through the skin is that only small amounts will reach my stomach, through the blood stream. The anti-inflammatory effect, which is really why I take the stuff, will mostly work locally. I don't particularly want painkiller; pain is the body's warning lights. I just don't want my tendons to become encased in scar tissue. I will rather have gel now than surgery later.

And not least, I got a week's sick leave with full pay. This would have been fabulous if not for the sick part. But it beats hurting and working! (The Dragon software, in a sudden flash of insight, transcribed this as "working and working".) So for the rest of this week and Monday, I am supposed to stress down and get in shape. No strategy games, no long hours of typing novel, and no other intensive righthanded activities either (not that I would do that anyway!)

When (if?) my throat has recovered from catching up on the journal, I hope to continue my novel. Even though I have keywords on my pocket PC for several gray entries, I intend to give priority to the novel for now. (You may want to stop by now and then and look at my calendar page if you come here for the gray entries.) While it is not likely that I will quit my job to become a novelist, I still hope I will be able to dictate some novels to add to my disability pension when I have to quit the job anyway. But that won't be this year.