In the Podiatrist’s Dental Chair
For more than a decade I paid Doctor Carey to work on my teeth whenever one or more of them caused me pain in the form of toothache.
Alright, so the surgeon had been largely unsuccessful in his attempt to remove the cancerous lymph node from my neck. There being nothing more he could do for me with his scalpel, he pointed me in the direction of an oncologist just down the road.
On Friday, 23 September 2022, K took me to meet Doctor D. The Oncology Centre is part of the Hermanus Medical Village, a small private hospital on the corner of De Goede and Church Streets. First, we saw the social worker, who gave us some general information about what they did to treat cancer patients. Then she talked about how the town was being overrun by semigrants from the rest of the country, where services and infrastructure were collapsing. We went back to reception, and while we waited an old man and his wife emerged from a room and tottered towards the exit. As he passed close by, I was struck by how ill he looked. Jesus, I thought to myself, this guy has got to be terminal! Pain, resentment and anger were written on his ashen features and I detected hatred in the glare he gave me on his way out.
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Read MoreFor more than a decade I paid Doctor Carey to work on my teeth whenever one or more of them caused me pain in the form of toothache.
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