On a Lawyers Revolt and an Entirely Unpleasant Happening

Today was rather more eventful than I had planned it to be. The morning began like any other. My alarm went off at 7am, I finally got out of bed at 8:30 promising that I would in fact go to the gym tomorrow-and rushed to work for another thrilling day in the life of a highly unqualified expat attorney. Things got better when I realized that all of the partners at my office are out of the country, in fact, off of the continent- at a swanky partners retreat in Barcelona. While the thought of staying at home in bed all day while the rain makers of the my veritable employer swill sangria all week did cross my mind- I dutifully drug myself from the comforts of home to do work that likely should have been completed days ago.

Things got slightly more interesting when an "all associates" meeting was called. It was decided that while the bosses are rather far away, it would be the perfect time to charge lunch to the firm and have a giant whine fest about the atrocities perpetrated against us hardworking "fee-earners" by the management. This I found to be the most enjoyable thing that has happened in my brief tenure at the law firm. After a strike was ruled out as being uncouth and un-solicitor-like, a formal revolt was planned and the chosen messengers will be delivering our list of demands to the dictator managing partner upon his return from Iberia. Amongst the list of noble requests, it has been suggested that morale at the institution could be uplifted by a financial contribution to a yet-to-be-established social committee for purchase of beer the facilitation of comraderie in the ranks.  

I left this revolutionary forum with a sense of gratification that my comrades in the trenches share my desire for  more plentiful office supplies, better environs, higher dinner allowances and less unreasonable demands about energy conservation. In my newfound state of elation I returned to my shared office space with high hopes of finishing work before 10pm and eating dinner at an establishment not located in the subway station.

All this hope was to be crushed when out of the blue I was stricken down by a nosebleed of enormous proportions. What adult gets nosebleeds? Is it even possible to get a nose bleed when you live in one of the most moist and humid places in the earth? Sadly, I am apparently such an adult- who despite escaping the dry and frosty air and my childhood in Colorado- has not outgrown a proclivity for nosebleeds. While one nosebleed is hardly cause to rush to seek medical advise, this was my second in as many days, and I have recently been struggling with monster headaches and a never ceasing running nose. So, upon the solid advice of my husband I went to see the Doctor. My motivation to do this was increased by the fact that my office building is home to a drop-in clinic. Long story short- the Docs in the office are mainly quacks- and it after looking at my nose with a flash light, it was wisely suggested by the quacks that I see someone with a medical degree that was not purchased online. I rushed off to Mt. Elizabeth hospital to see a ENT specialist for my now worrisome sinus issues.

Much relieved to see a normal and entirely western looking medical facility I was dismayed when the first words out of the Dr's mouth upon inspecting my nasal canal was something about a prominent blood vessel followed by the words "cauterization." After my nose had been packed with numbing agents, I decided to ask my husband to google what exactly "cauterization" was going to entail. After using wikipedia to sort out the medical ramifications of the term, he smartly decided not to explain the trauma I was about to endure. As one might imagine, the cauterization left something to be desired by the unsuspecting patient.

The lesson subsequently learned here is that when a Doctor says "don't worry, you will not find this to be uncomfortable" you should assume that in fact what he is telling you is that it is going to hurt like a &^#(@ and you should take the opportunity at such time, before the "comfortable" procedure has taken place, to curse him and beg for pain medication. This is because it is entirely likely that after the completion of the entirely "comfortable" procedure you will be in such a state of horror you will be unable to do so. On the upside, I have now seen a movie of the inside of my sinus cavities.... Unfortunately it seems that I will get to go see the nasal torturer again in a few weeks to have some outpatient surgery done on my poor little nose.

So, as Tuesday draws to a close in Singapore, the highs of revolutionary fervor have been replaced by the lows of horrifying nasal violation and my subsequent inability to breath through my traumatized nose. And not even some good drugs to make it all worth it!