HWA?

pukiban


Everything's So Bitch!

My view is pro-existance. ~ils veulent juste baiser~


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Vietnam Adventure Part Three: Good relief for burning pain because of sun-bath at the seaside.
HWA?
pukiban
Uncle: *Talking in Vietnamese*
Clay: (Translating) Did you take your pills say yes?
Me: ...Yes!


No one ever told me the tubes on the sides of the scooters were incredibly, scaldingly hot. Clay didn't even remember let me know when he was telling me to pose (or “sexy pose” as he does love to request) next to one. And that's how I ended up with this:

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Later, it developed many puffy blisters. When we tried to go to the medical shop to buy some gauze, we were instead given ointment and a Vaseline patch. Though I'd read on the Internets not to put anything much on the burn besides bandages, I was still a little relieved, since when the lady came from behind the counter to put the patch on my leg, I flinched slightly at the sight of her tiny pointy scissors. (HEY. I have a mother who BLEEDS HERSELF when she's sick. I feel bad for even thinking it, but I don't trust anyone from the same culture to come around my blisters with pointy things.)

The Cau Bai, the uncle who was around when it happened got upset we didn't mention it earlier, only of course we had but I suppose he didn't understand (or didn't try very hard to. When you express a concern he seems to like to say 'Yeah, yeah, yeah,' dismissively, and it's hard to tell if he's being dismissive about your concern, or dismissive about trying to figure out what you're saying to him.)

The next day (or two?), when another uncle's family saw the burn, they came into my room with no new clean bandage or Vaseline patch to replace the disgusting dirty one, but another more different ointment and Mystery Pills in lots of pretty colors:

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Pill takeage patterns over the next couple days:
First set: Spit into my backpack when giver turned away
Second set: Swiped into a plastic bag when left alone in the room with them
Third set: Thrown into my bra while making a mock tossing-into-mouth motion (when pulled out, they were slimy, slightly dissolved, and the smallest either entirely dissolved or missing. Also, one fell through the keyhole in the bra I forgot was there and had to wiggle to get it down into the waistband of my pants. Clay said it was very skillful, though.)

At the time I couldn't really remember what exactly the doctor lady we talked to before we left had said about taking local medication (later Dad confirmed we should not), but considering the way the next day when we went to the same medical shop to get clean patches they tried to sell us an other more different kind of ointment (that makes three), again as if it was the usual thing they always used for burns, I was feeling cautious.

I'm scared for when the blisters burst, because I'm not sure the water here is clean. :( The ladies liked to grab my calves and squeeze them and say how pretty they were. Clay and I think this is the price we must pay for the vanity of my family.

EDIT:
Since this post was written, we were with the help of mother able to convince the family to stop giving me pills (that, or they ran out) and instead get me some turmeric and giant aloe:

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I was really happy about the aloe, and took and broke off a tiny piece to keep in my room, leaving the rest in the big bag o' aloe they'd brought, figuring I could go get more when I needed it. That night when for desert we were served something milky and sweet with large, rectangular clear chunks in it, I realized I had made a mistake.

Still, I conserved what I had and the burn is almost better now, even if everyone still keeps asking me why I keep washing it all the time and wiggling bottles of medicine in my face.

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