Sick in a bed-stuy clinic

Sick in a bed-stuy clinic

I had been a walking corpse for a few days but being as cynical as I am I thought going to the doctor would make no difference. So I continued to self medicate with prescriptions by google. By the second day of taking shots of apple cider vinegar and rubbing Castor oil on my lymph nodes I still felt awful. I decided to wake up early the next morning and be the first one in line for the new local clinic in one of the raunchiest neighborhoods in Brooklyn, which is where I was located at the moment. I was desperate. Bright and early the next day I slicked my greasy hair down, put on the biggest sunglasses I own and walked a few blocks to the clinic. By the time I got there, there was already a line of the typical neighborhood weirdos waiting outside for the door to be opened. A grandma with a Mcgriddle in hand and of course a girl with the nappiest weave I have ever seen. I knew I was in for more than I expected. As the door man let us all in, the stampede began. We all herded our way to the second floor. I was semi shocked to be the first person in line as I finally made it to the "Adult Medicine" section; no one else had taken the stairs. I walked up to the receptionist and was greeted by the smell of "Hawaiian breeze", donuts and burrito. She looked sweet but as soon as she patted her weave and gave me a death glare, I knew. She asked me why I was here and for my ID. Then she told me a nurse would call me and that she didn't know when the nurses would be in. Just my luck, I'd die on this generic tile floor. I sat down to find no magazines, just condoms in fish bowls. Then the receptionist starts going off on everyone. A woman from the front desk walks in and asks her why its so dark; Her response, "I Don't need no bright lights in here, its EARLY." I think by this point she had heated herself up and was dripping in sweat. She asks another woman to get her "one dem towels" from the doctors office. Slowly, I'm dying. An hour passes and finally a nurse calls me in. She takes my vitals and then takes a very important phone call in another language while I sit there in a cold sweat. I hear a voice from another room calling out my last name and I wish for the best and that maybe a brilliant doctor awaited my pale body. I walk in to see fruit snack wrappers all over a computer desk and a small Indian woman typing away at a windows '98 screen. All hope is lost. She takes my vitals again, eats some more fruit snacks and types my symptoms into the computer one letter at a time.  She then says I may have an ear infection but she doesn't know and tells me to go to the ER if I get any worse. This whole time my cloudy head is giving up on trying to make out what she is saying. I am beyond exhausted and rather be at home with my apple cider vinger. She prescibes some ear drops and says, "OK", which I take is my signal to go. I walk out mad, sad and still very sick.