The Elusive Angry Zola

Here's a line I've thought of, but have never had the opportunity to use: "Aw gee, you don't mean that. You're just saying that because you're sober. That's just the lack of whiskey talking."

We drove into Lovely and Talented Daveed again yesterday to take another shot at seeing Doctora Xiomara Anguizola. (Try pronouncing that one you Spanish beginners!) This time she was not out of the country as she was during our last attempt, but she was out of the city. I asked if there was another pulmonary especialista I could see and was told no. Alrighty then, I said inquiring, when can I see Angry Zola?

See, the problem here starts with the telephone. When I first called for an appointment early last week, I talked to a woman whose Spanish was far too fast and far too sophisticated for me to understand. I hung up the phone thinking what she had said was the fandango is the dance of religious fanatics in heat and I should come in tomorrow, in the morning. When I did show up the next day, Angry Zola was fuera de pais, out of the country. "She would be back Monday...probably." That ellipsis there, those three dots, represents what was a very long pause before the word probably. When I called on several occasions Monday, there was no answer. Tuesday was a holiday, so we waited until yesterday to try again. I thought unwisely, my usual mode of thought, that if Angry Zola wasn't in, I would see someone else. Well fat chance Lizard Lungs! There is, apparently, only one of each kind of doctor in the greater Daveed area. Despite the fact my ears were plugged from the combination of my ailment (whatever it is) and driving from altitude to sea level, I persisted through the "repeta por favors" until I was able to obtain an actual cita (appointment)from the two young nurses person-ing the desk in a hallway outside the doctor's office. One of them, I should mention, was making swabs from a bundle of cotton and a bunch of sticks. A penny saved is...not much, but idle hands are the devil's tools or workshop or something like that, so let's keep busy. The problem with this appointment, if there is one, is that it is for noon Friday. I'm thinking Angry Zola will be out to lunch.

The delays, in truth, don't bother me. I keep thinking I'll wake up one morning and the evil crud demon that has taken hold of my air in-take apparatus will be gone, saving me large quantities of balboas (dollars) that I would otherwise give to the Panamanian medical industry. Sure, the demon is still there today, but hey! and c'mon! and like that...I've still got tomorrow!

Do I really mean that or is it just the coffee talking?