...everybody's got their own personal agenda regarding my illness & its management...i got a hold of dr.dad late monday night & he insisted, as part of a rant against th pharmaceutical company racketeers, that cheap old tetracycline was all i needed to set me right as rain. when th malaise & feverishness woke me up around six th next day, i phoned cousin tate's dad, tio jaime th pharmacist, to see if he could help me w/ any of this. i ended up driving him into town by seven-thirty, right on time to open for business. i accepted his offer of coffee & sipped it outside in th morning light, taking deep breaths before finally settling into a corner chair in th waiting room to tate's office while morning tv blasted away at th growing number of appointments joining me. th doctor came in from seeing hospitalized patients in th neighboring town of manati around ten, ten-thirty.

i got called to wait in an examination cubicle after some further waiting, & after some further waiting still, climbed on

th paper-covered table & settled in for a short nap, cut short by tate as he burst in & proceeded to throw a small tantrum about not starting on th antibiotics, & about getting dr.dad involved. i had to make a choice about who i wanted to treat me, who i was going to listen to & make my primary care provider...

to summarize: i let myself be talked into doing a seven day cycle of augmentin after all, on th off chance something other than cat scratch disease might be at work...

had to come into town again thursday & saturday for further tests requiring blood samples taken on an empty stomach. meanwhile, fever crises grew in frequency & intensity.

saturday, july 7th, after going over th last of th test results w/dr.tate, i stopped for lunch at 'mi casa' restaurant. by

three-thirty, when my brother javier showed up w/ his fiancee, i was thanking th owner for some enteric coated aspirin to gulp down w/ coffee & dessert. i felt sick enough to move my next dose up an hour to six-thirty & motivated to finally locate a thermometer in th house. my temperature was up to 40C/104F.

sometime between seven-thirty & eight, javier gave me a ring: tate was w/ him, they were on their way to th fights & a tribute to tito trinidad in barceloneta. alarmed at th high fever, th good dottore suggested i drive myself to my dad's in san juan so i might at least be under observation. i was feeling too sick, weak, & dizzy to attempt it- & was still too proud to admit it- i pooh-pooh'd tate's offer to drive me & he decided to put th fear of god in me before hanging up: 'it's yr life- or yr leg, who knows. anything beyond low-grade fever brings into question th cat-scratch disease diagnosis. i've done what i can.' javier promised to call back as soon as they made it to barceloneta, & i spent two hours counting every minute, regretting my stupid pride th moment i hung up. around nine th fever broke- on th upside, to 104.5F/40.3C. couldn't raise dr.dad, either. i made my peace then & there: 'maybe i'll fry here on earth so i can go straight to heaven. i'm in yr hands.

i trust i'm somehow safe in yr hands...'

tio oscar had my dad's fiancee's phone number, & although th machine picked up there, too, having talked to oscar helped

a great deal. 'well, an abscess may have formed. you just have to have it looked at as soon as possible.' th one positive, calming voice...from another sick man who had to struggle to speak up...

around ten th fever finally started to ease down. i was thankfully falling asleep around eleven-thirty when javier finally called.

th next day, dr.dad & his fiancee jeanette drove over to help me gather a few things- including th cat- & bring me to der guter doktor's place, our dark, dust-filled suburban flying saucer of a family home...