Walked: 20.5 Km
I met an old woman who warned me not to drink from the water fountain, which had two signs indicating unsuitability for human consumption. I shrugged and told her my Mexican stomach could surely handle it, and then gulped on the water.
Conversation turned towards health matters: she told me she lost her appetite some months ago, and her husband looked at it with suspicion saying “something is wrong, let’s go to the doctor”. They ran some tests on her and found a misbehaving thyroid gland.
She wasn’t recovering her appetite and she refused to eat, so the doctor fed her, and told her she’d be back to feed her for dinner if she didn’t do it herself. She resumed eating to please the doctor. She was put into an MRI scanner and the technician told her to be very still. When she came out, the technician was amazed and said that he had never seen somebody remain so still.
I smiled: the health workers were doing their job. A doctor should not only provide proper treatment, but also give compassion and compliment the courage and willingness of the patient to put through discomfort. With all the talk about objectification we seem to miss that one rarely feels like a human being when stepping into a hospital.
We bid farewell. The next day I experienced a bad case of The Shits.