Pimple-Packed Day

A rather boring day today.

Spent most of the day on campus for classes, studying Iraqi Arabic for my test today, researched a bit at the library, and then worked out at the gym. One of the more interesting moments of the day occurred when I ran into my Iraqi Arabic teacher on campus a couple of hours before our exam.

He decided to walk with me to the library because he had numerous questions about how US health insurance worked (there is no such thing as health insurance in Iraq). He showed me his insurance packet, asked me how a co-pay and deductible worked, and then asked if he would get his $500 enrollment back if he didn't go to the doctor during the time he had the insurance. Ahhh, yaaaaa, that would be a big noooo... I'm still not sure he understands that insurance is a business. He also seemed perplexed that the insurance company would pay most of his hospital or doctor care, asking me, "well, if this costs more than my $500 then how do they pay for it?" I tried to let him know it was by bilking everyone else who paid and didn't go to the doctor, but I don't think he really got the whole concept.

However, the "interesting" part of the conversation is when he insisted upon telling me exactly why he was asking these insurance questions..... well, it seems that he needs to see a doctor.

Despite my protests of "oh, please, it's personal, you don't have to tell me," (thinking "please don't say any more, please, oh please...") I was subjected to one of the grosser conversations of my life, and I now must share ... no, it's not hemmorhoids or diarrhea, thank god, but apparently he has a large zit on his nose (which he pointed to and asked me to look at closely) that won't go away. I'm not kidding. I mean, I've noticed that his skin is slightly blemished, but he started telling me about this pimple that bled nightly (probably because he's been picking at it endlessly) and then asked me what the word in English was for "the yellow stuff that comes out."



Honestly, I thought I was going to hurl. So I had to tell him it was "pus" which he wrote down on his paper as "puss" (which is actually even grosser given the other possible pronunciation), and then I cut him off and told him that I didn't want to know any more. Well, I really hope there wasn't any more than that... I mean, that was plenty, but I just couldn't look at the thing anymore and talk about his nightly pimple popping sessions. I told him to call a dermotologist and then got the hell out of dodge.

For extra fun, click here... the Acne Be Gone game!

So there you have it... my action-packed, pimple-popping day. Cheers!!!