I have been in denial for a few weeks now. Deep deep denial.

Despite the deep throated coughs that seem to originate from somewhere in the pits of my lungs, the unexplainable fatigue that makes me sleep all day or lie in bed watching bad TV, the nasty nasty gooey yellow stuff that gets forced out by my gut wrenching, body shaking coughs and the excruciating headaches that leaves me napping for 3 hours while I had my in laws out in the living room, I still refused to accept the fat that I am sick.

Mathias tried as hard as he could to convince me in both English and Swedish, but Dian being Dian, I just didn't want to go see a doctor. Until last night that seemed to freak husband enough to actual act on his own and call the doctor today to schedule an appointment. According to Mathias, my breathing sounded really bad, I had been tired all day and my body ached enough to make me take my headache pills that also act as a tranquilizer just so that I could sleep through the night.

So today, I went for my very first doctor's visit. Mathias called me in the morning to tell me that he had arranged for a doctor's appointment today at 2pm. With resignation I agreed to go with him cos I was still in denial and thinking that it will go away on its own.

The doctor's office is just down the street from our block and it is actually part of someone's house (the doctor's I presumed). The only thing that distinguished that place as a clinic was a small sign by the window. So we entered into a small room that had coathangers and chairs that we presumed to be the waiting room.

There were 2 doors of which one was the toilet. Mathias very tentatively knocked and opened the unlabelled door to peek in. He quickly shut the door again and said it was a kitchen. Next to that door were stairs leading up with 2 doors at the top. Husband didn't want to go up but at my insistence, he ran up halfway and announced that there was nobody up there cos the lights are out.

Hmph, I laughed to myself, scaredy cat.

His solution was to just take a seat and wait cos the doctor knows we are coming at 2pm. This baffled me. Shouldn't we at least let the doctor know that we are here so he knows to attend to us when he is available? Where IS the doctor? Does he have a nurse? Don't I register myself somewhere??

I know this is Sweden and a different country means different procedures, but it's ridiculous to just come into an empty room, sit down, wait and hopefully someone will eventually come to attend to us. So Mathias finally decides to knock on that kitchen door once again and this time, a rather elderly man opens the door and identifies himself as the doctor. Ah...finally!

So we walk through a small kitchen and into his tiny doctor's office in the back. It almost looks like a blast from the past for me. Behind his small desk, books covered the wall ceiling to floor and he had a typewriter on his desk amongst other paraphernalia. I would call his office/museum very quaint and it didn't matter to me cos he is still a doctor. In the middle of the room was a bed where he checks his patients and another bookshelf filled to the brim with hand written patient files. How very traditional looking, I would say.

The doctor was a very nice man who tried to make me feel comfortable and whatever he couldn't explain to me in English, he would turn to the husband for translation. But the doctor did get concerned when he learned that I had had my cough for weeks and it is getting increasingly worse. He told us that it was very good that we came in when we did cos I was very very close to contracting pneumonia. And that had been Mathias' concern too as pneumonia can leave on bed ridden for weeks. and neither one of us wants that.

Right now, I had some infection and inflammation in the bronchitis and lungs (is that the same thing?) and I need to take some antibiotics and some phlegm dissolving tablets. But he is apparently concerned enough to insist that we call him back in 3 days to update him on my conditon, whetehr good or bad. If the antibiotics are not effective, he will put me on something stronger but for now this should be sufficient.

Ok ok... so husband was right and wife was wrong. He is allowed to rub it into my face for tonight. I sure hope this irritating cough goes away.