Tuesday, February 13, 2007

13 February 2007

I came down with a nasty cough for the second time since moving here, and have come to the conclusion that Swiss doctors have a nice little racket going. Both times that I’ve had a horrible cough (not just a polite, ladylike cough, a big, hacking, phlegm-filled cough that keeps me up all night), I’ve gone to the doctor after a week of misery. Both times, the doctors have listened to my cough, told me that they weren’t sure if it was viral or bacterial, and told me to wait a week to see. If the cough was still there a week later, then it was probably bacterial and would therefore warrant treatment. So basically, I paid the doctors to tell me that they weren’t going to do anything about my horrendous cough, and to say that they would happily take more of my money if I came in again for the same cough.

The first time, I went back a week later, still with a miserable cough, and the doctor then decided I had proven my need for antibiotics by (barely) surviving two weeks of people treating me like I had the plague. This time, I’ve accepted the fact that the doctor sent me home with a cheerful recommendation of extra fluids and ginger, and perhaps a repeat visit, but have been carefully (over)-dosing myself with Nyquil, Robitussin, Sudafed, Tylenol, Advil, and whatever other American OTC drugs I have on hand. I have a stash of antibiotics, and I’ll take those if the second week passes without any improvement, and the good doctor can keep his fluids and ginger.

Before I came down with tuberculosis, or whatever this affliction is, I decided I wanted to clean up my apartment a bit. Those of you who know me or have ever been to my apartment know that I am not the most meticulous of housekeepers. To be honest, I’m a slob, even by American standards, which means that by Swiss standards, I am about as respectable a housekeeper as an adolescent chimpanzee. This explains why, after living here for over two years, I still did not own a mop. I have one of those wet Swiffers, but not a serious mop.

I decided to go pick one up at a big grocery store at lunch. I checked my wallet, and I had 45 Swiss Francs (about $36), and I figured that that would be more than enough to get a basic mop and a sandwich. How much could a mop possibly cost? I figured that in the States, a basic mop would maybe cost fifteen bucks (a completely wild guess, since I’ve never bought one before). Double that to account for Swiss prices, toss in a few bucks for a sandwich, and I’d be fine, right? Wrong. The cheapest mop in the store cost, you guessed it, 45 Swiss Francs. I decided I needed a sandwich more than I needed a mop, dirty floors be damned. I later found a somewhat cheaper mop at another store, but was still flabbergasted – who would pay that much for a thing that you dunk in a bucket and smear around on your floor? I guess the Swiss would. Elsewhere in the world, cleanliness is next to godliness, but I’m convinced that here in Switzerland, it’s the other way around.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and Sunday is Chinese New Year (Happy Year of the Pig!!), so I’m heading to Paris for the weekend to celebrate – get some good food, do some shopping and sightseeing, visit some old friends. Two other friends are supposed to go skiing this weekend, but are unsure whether that will happen. It has been an unusually warm winter here, with very little snow, much to the chagrin of the general Swiss population, who revel in skiing and snowboarding. Looks like upstate New York stole all of the snow from the Alps this year, over ten feet in eight days! They can keep it, if it means I don’t have to be cold and miserable while I’m coughing my lungs out on the way to work.

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