This past week I have been in agony. I’m pretty much incapable of walking anywhere as my right foot is pretty douloureux.
After trying to rest for most of the week, which happens to be the week of half-term – GREAT, I decided to go to the doctors. Yesterday I rang a number which I presumed to be the doctors only to find out I’d made an appointment for health insurance cue “puis j’annuler la rendez-vous s’il vous plait, j’ai fait une erreur”. Okay. Appointment cancelled. So I rang the correct place and asked if I could have an appointment with an English speaking doctor. Sorted. 10h45, vendredi matin.
I turned up to the doctors and after checking in at reception I sat in the waiting room for what didn’t seem all that long. The doctor came out a few times calling for, what I thought sounded like, “madame wyse” – she just wasn’t there. Fancy that! Making an appointment and not turning up without cancelling! Then a few minutes later the receptionist came over and asked what my surname was, I told her and then spelt it out for her too and she explained that she’d taken it down wrong and the “madame wyse” that the doctor was calling for was actually me. O dear. What an error. I could hear mutters of “elle est anglais” from across the waiting room. YES I MIGHT BE ANGLAIS BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOUR FRANÇAIS RAMBLINGS ABOUT FOREIGNERS.
Eventually I got seen by the doctor who was very nice and without even realising it I was describing my foot pain and explaining what I thought was the cause, all in French!!! I felt so proud of myself. I hadn’t prepared myself for this French speaking extravaganza – I simply imagined I’d stroll in and tell the doctor what was wrong with my foot in English and he would say “ee by gum that sounds reet bad, ‘ave some tablets” – but no. Fully French appointment; French explanation, French diagnosis, French prescription, French everything! I hobbled out of the doctors room feeling smug that the “fille anglais” just had a successful, fully French speaking doctors appointment. Paid at the receptions desk and then headed to the pharmacie.
Now I’m sat in bed, doing just as the doctor orderd. Resting my foot. “REPOSE” is what he said to me as I left his room, and that is what I shall do. I’m sad that I will be missing out on the Halloween weekend. I shan’t be going to Toulouse with people from my foyer like originally planned and I shan’t be going to the bar down the road for a Halloween knees up. I shall be sat in bed, with my foot on a pillow watching American and English films dubbed in French on my new little French television and making lesson plans.
Not the Toussaint that I imagined I’d be having but hey ho life goes on.