Come to think of it...
I was always getting indisposed when I went to Mexico. It was just like
the time before, when we went for Thanksgiving. I'd taken one lick from a cone
of spoiled ice cream... Well, okay, I'd taken two -- one to say "Ew," and then
one more to make sure that it was definitely spoiled ice cream and not just my
own Americentrism. So I digested a tiny bit of something bad, and that night I
was spasming on the bathroom floor with my limbs going numb. It scared Letty
and the neighbors pretty badly. They called the doctor, who made an actual
house call. He examined me and asked me if I was married, I remember. Later I'd
asked why he asked that. I was told that he wanted to know if I was sexually
active, and that was the proper way to ask. I remember being glad that I had
food poisoning and not a venereal disease.
The doctor prescribed penicillin in syringe-to-the-butt form. For some
reason, he gave us the medicine and told us we could let Letty's cousin Lauri's
sister administer the shots. I think she was a nurse or something. All I know
for sure is that I got the last shot from the woman who owned the local
convenience store. She was a complete stranger to me. At least she was nice.
She said nice stuff about my butt. People in Mexico always marvelled at my
height and other physical attributes. The shot hurt like hell, though.
page 5
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