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Fat Fuck

I went to the SOS International Medical Clinic last week to get my burnt leg seen to.  It's quite dangerous to have any kind of open wound in all this humidity and heat, with a huge risk of infection and possibility of tropical disease type bacteria as well or weird worms or pernicious viruses. Or so I keep telling myself.

I first was seen by a French doctor who was kind and friendly and whose English was fantastic. I was clearly not her first muffler burn:

- "Oh yes. The motorbike burn. I have one too."

I decided that I would only show her my left leg, which is the worst burn.  I was too embarrassed to admit that I had two burns, which occurred across two legs and two motorbikes and less than 5 seconds.

She tssssked quite approvingly at my burn before parading me in front of two nurses: one to clean the wound and one to silently supervise. I was introduced to as "motorbike leg" and they knew exactly what this meant: another fat potato who doesn't know how to ride a bike.

La Docteuse took me back to a waiting area while she popped into her office to take some notes. I noticed the sign above her and smiled.

After carefully bandaging my burn, each of the nurses showed me their own burn scars and made me feel like a local. And it felt a bit dirty. At least until the $150 USD bill jolted me back to potato reality.

On my way out I stopped by to say good bye to Fat Fak. Ie worked a sleeping pill prescription into my thank you's and bade my farewell.