Burn, Baby Burn

Not a fun day today. Last night I went out with my building for tea and coffee. I was sitting on a stool and the waiter came up behind me and spilled a huge, steaming, sizzling mug of fresh hot tea all over me. It went all over the back of my leg, and I was wearing thin tights that offered no protection and instead clung burning to my skin. This being Greece, of course, he didn’t even apologize or give us free stuff, and actually still tried to rip the group off at the end of the night.

I didn’t stay until the end, though; I knew it was bad and went right home. I was going to take the bus but as I limped through the street trying not to cry, I flagged down the first cab that came by and went home. The cabbie was trying to talk to me but I could hardly think straight because of the pain. I got home, peeled off my pants, and it was just as I feared; the entire back/side of my thigh was red and blistered. It’s really nasty and disgusting, I won’t go into any more detail than that. I ran it under cold water and found some Neosporin to put on it, took some Motrin, and went to sleep as best I could, holding an icepack to my leg.

It still hurts really badly today, and looks absolutely revolting, but it’s not as bad as yesterday. I actually was scheduled to go to the hospital for a TB shot and chest X-ray for my residency permit, so while I was there I had them take a look at it. They just made sympathetic “oooohhhh” sounds and didn’t actually do anything, so I called the school doctor and she took a look and got me all bandaged up so I could at least sit down.

I went to a pharmacy after school to pick up more gauze and burn cream, and the guy behind the counter made me feel really bad—not because he was mean, but because he was so nice. I just asked for what I needed and then he was asking where is the burn, how big, how bad, those type of hot liquid burns are the worst to deal with, if only I had come to him sooner it would probably be less painful now. He seemed really upset the doctor hadn’t prescribed any antibiotics or anything, and told me if I needed anything or if it got worse to come straight back. I really was just looking for someone to hand me what I needed and for some reason this made me almost cry.

So now I’m sitting here in my room with a huge bandage and no pants on, wallowing, eating nutella, and pretty much feeling sorry for myself. It sucks to get hurt away from home—I just want my mommy! Instead I still have to get myself dinner, get my work done and keep going tomorrow. It sucks to be a grown-up!