(no subject)
I spent yesterday in a Turkish Hospital.
my friend, Frankie, is down at the moment from UK. she went to Kapadokia last week and got bitten by a dog. the scar's (missing chunk in leg) pretty evil.. no digital camera, no photos - sorry.
she was supposed to get a rabies jab on sunday but we were to busy preparing for the gig in the evening. which went well btw. if not a little low key and shame about the music killing the amplifier half way through.. anyway.
this hospital was a rather morbid experience.
not knowing exactly where we were supposed to go we made our way to the most obvious-looking reception area. this consisted of a very crowded corridoor. lots of injured, miserable, patient, impatient people mixed together.. the atmosphere was grim. every now and then someone was pushed past on a stretcher with a gouged up face or broken leg or just really pale. everyone seemed to be holding a test-tube full of blood. there were arguments, attempts at people negototiating their way to the front, others being meek and letting people past.
there was an argument/misunderstanding between the headscarved lady in front of us speaking for a haci (like a holy man) who somehow managed to aqcuire a massive face-sized bruise on his face. an old guy was helping them out. they finished.
we showed the bloke the piece of paper acquired from the pharmacy in Kapadokia and he mumbled directions which i couldn't understand. i asked again and he just said them again even louder and faster..
we found someone to help us who took us into a quiet room with just a friendly doctor in it.
he took off Frankie's bandage and checked out the wound.. then gave her the rabies jab we came for.
all we needed now was for him to rebandage the leg and we could go.
he insisted on getting some anti-biotics. ok. so we had to follow some guy to another part of the hospital where we were to get the prescription for the so-named medication.
we waited ages for a doctor who got really angry at us for not getting them before (... mmm . can see how that was our fault not at all i can)/...
we were then to follow another man again. this time back to the place we started in. the death area. people miserable, dying, tired, holding blood. i could smell the disease in the air. my stomach was turning.
this guy took us into a room full of more dying people on stretchers.
they put frankie onto a bed. we were expecting a bandaging but all of a sudden the guy just clips the edges of her wound together without any warning. lots of people talking. we can't understand. death and disease surrounding us. darkness begins to set in.
but.. after having to pay for the experience. we finally leave.
my friend, Frankie, is down at the moment from UK. she went to Kapadokia last week and got bitten by a dog. the scar's (missing chunk in leg) pretty evil.. no digital camera, no photos - sorry.
she was supposed to get a rabies jab on sunday but we were to busy preparing for the gig in the evening. which went well btw. if not a little low key and shame about the music killing the amplifier half way through.. anyway.
this hospital was a rather morbid experience.
not knowing exactly where we were supposed to go we made our way to the most obvious-looking reception area. this consisted of a very crowded corridoor. lots of injured, miserable, patient, impatient people mixed together.. the atmosphere was grim. every now and then someone was pushed past on a stretcher with a gouged up face or broken leg or just really pale. everyone seemed to be holding a test-tube full of blood. there were arguments, attempts at people negototiating their way to the front, others being meek and letting people past.
there was an argument/misunderstanding between the headscarved lady in front of us speaking for a haci (like a holy man) who somehow managed to aqcuire a massive face-sized bruise on his face. an old guy was helping them out. they finished.
we showed the bloke the piece of paper acquired from the pharmacy in Kapadokia and he mumbled directions which i couldn't understand. i asked again and he just said them again even louder and faster..
we found someone to help us who took us into a quiet room with just a friendly doctor in it.
he took off Frankie's bandage and checked out the wound.. then gave her the rabies jab we came for.
all we needed now was for him to rebandage the leg and we could go.
he insisted on getting some anti-biotics. ok. so we had to follow some guy to another part of the hospital where we were to get the prescription for the so-named medication.
we waited ages for a doctor who got really angry at us for not getting them before (... mmm . can see how that was our fault not at all i can)/...
we were then to follow another man again. this time back to the place we started in. the death area. people miserable, dying, tired, holding blood. i could smell the disease in the air. my stomach was turning.
this guy took us into a room full of more dying people on stretchers.
they put frankie onto a bed. we were expecting a bandaging but all of a sudden the guy just clips the edges of her wound together without any warning. lots of people talking. we can't understand. death and disease surrounding us. darkness begins to set in.
but.. after having to pay for the experience. we finally leave.