So let me ask a stupid question. What are the odds of your dear friend Selina emailing you and saying “don’t worry, my sister in law is a doctor in the Tropical Disease Department of a large hospital in Amsterdam” ?
I don’t want you to try to calculate it – I have tried and it’s useless. Let me just assure you that the probability is extremely small. That’s coming from someone who got an S- in Statistics at an Ivy League that doesn’t bother giving grades because everyone there is THAT smart, so I could be wrong. Actually, the truth is, I don’t even remember the grading system because I’m bad with numbers (err, letters) and I think the ‘S’ system might be from my 7 year old niece’s report card, which is essentially the same thing.
Bottom line is that I feel pretty gosh darned lucky. This is about as good as good news gets. It’s a few days after Selina’s email and the even better news is that it appears that the parasites have decided to retreat (I’m actually seriously impressed with how long they stuck with me). And Selina’s sister in law predicted it.
The differences between the Americans and the Dutch are impressive. I emailed a 4 sentence summary of what’s wrong with me to a Dutch doctor and her response was “there’s nothing to worry about, she’s fine” while I spent hours with doctors in America who responded with “yuck” and cut a piece out of my leg (and I’m sure charged me both an arm and a leg, I am not looking forward to receiving that bill).
I probably shouldn’t say this, but I love Dutch people. I just do! I love them. The freaky deaky Dutch. They’re made fun of for a reason – because they’re that special. Honestly. And it’s a good thing because I’m on the plane back to Amsterdam and it is sad. Not a desperate “please don’t make me go back there” sad. More of a “shit fuckballs mother fucker goddammit my traveling is over” Tourettes kind of sad. I guess at this point it doesn’t matter if I get kicked off Blogspot for excessive swearing.
Happy New Year!