and when your fear subsides, and shadows still remain

I'm miserably ill. I went home around 2:30pm today, then went to a doctor at the Apollo Hospital. The hospital, as usual, was complete chaos; they don't have any sort of standardized appointment system, so you just go stand outside the doctor's door, and people constantly cut the line, and as soon as the door opens to let the previous patient leave, there's a rush to push into the room. People don't really care about privacy at all, and so dudes will just open the doctor's door to see what he's doing to the current person. I do feel for the doctor, since he seemed extremely busy, but I was too cranky to be really sympathetic. Today was one of those days when I wished I was anywhere but India--the hospital was an annoying experience that did not really give me any hope of getting better. The doctor said that he thinks I have laryngitis, and it's probably viral, but he gave me some antibiotics anyway, and some paracetamol (tylenol), and some vitamins that are much too large for me to swallow. He said that if I don't feel better in a couple of days, I should come back and get a blood test, but that sounds like the least fun thing I could possibly do, and so I'm going to do my best to avoid it. However, I'm guessing that my flight to London will not be pleasant.

Staying in the apartment during the day is an exercise in frustration. I am really sick of servants--there is such a language gap, and it's impossible to really get anything right the first time. When I came home at 2:30, I was only going to be here half an hour, and then I was going to the doctor. Narseema was cleaning someone else's room, but when she saw me, she said that she had to finish cleaning my room before I could go in. I tried to tell her that I was only going to be home for thirty minutes and that I really just wanted a nap (since I was desperately tired), but she refused to leave me alone, and so I had to wait to take a nap until she was done. So, my nap was only fifteen minutes--and I couldn't sleep downstairs on the swing because the freaking kids were hanging out down there, screaming as usual. Their apartment is seriously fifteen feet from ours, but they feel the need to hang out in ours all the time. If I were a mother, I would a) get my children out of a house where someone was ill for their own sake, and b) get my children out of a house where someone was ill so that they didn't disturb the person who was obviously in need of sleep and quiet. But this apparently didn't occur to anyone downstairs; they were still there when I got back from the doctor, and although I successfully slept for a couple of hours, I could hear them whenever I woke up. This makes me feel like a terrible person, but whatever.

I don't want to go to work tomorrow, but I have stuff that needs to get done before I leave for Europe. There are a couple of meetings in the afternoon that I can't miss, so I may sleep in and then go to the office. We shall see, we shall see.

I'm sorry that this turned into a sobfest--I will hopefully be in a better mood tomorrow. Now, though, I'm going to go to bed!