St. Petersburg - Day 3

Big Boy didn't want to wake up this morning, and if I'd known what was good for us, I would have let him sleep.

We did two laps of the park, but his blister was hurting and he got a side stitch and it was the start of Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. We started out for the Dostoevsky Museum (Достоевский Музей). As we waited for the elevator, Big Boy said how it was funny that he could only see blur out of his right eye on the right side (any guesses yet?). We got off the metro, were at the wrong stop, but didn't know it yet. As we started walking, he said that his head was really hurting him. He wanted to go in somewhere to sit down, and we ducked into a cafe that had a stuffed bear on one wall. But they had coffee, which he ordered.

As we sat there, he got paler & paler and started sweating buckets. After his trip to offload breakfast, I decided he probably had a migraine and needed to see a doctor. So, I check the map, and check it again. We start off for the American Clinic and it starts raining. He just keeps getting more pale, if that's even possible, and he says he's dizzy, so he leans on me a little as we walk. We get to the clinic, fill out a form, of course I've left our insurance cards at the apartment, and a nurse is taking his temp & blood pressure within 10 minutes of our arrival. A nice young doctor walks in, talks to Big Boy for awhile, and says he'll give him lots of tylenol and maybe something else if that doesn't work. But, we should probably get Big Boy an MRI when we get back to the US.

They lead us to a room, where a nurse strips the bed and puts disposable sheets on everything, including a duvet cover on the comforter (!). She comes in a little while later and gives Big Boy some pills and a shot. He falls asleep.

Luckily, I brought the guidebook with me, so I read about Siberia for the next three hours. Big Boy wakes up just before 6pm, the nice doctor leads us to the cashier, and for the "extended office consultation" it costs $140. And they take credit cards.

Drugs & sleep have done Big Boy wonders, and I am no longer worrying that he'll die on me. We cross the street to The Idiot and order some food. There's also chess, so we play. Big Boy beats me 4 out of 5 games. They serve us complimentary shots of vodka. Now, if he hadn't just spent the entire afternoon in the hospital, I'd have let him have his. I had both.

Then, off to the Church on the Spilled Blood, where we spent big bucks to look at some awesome mosaics. By then, we were hungry again, but only found some 24 hour quick marts and bought some water and Schweppes Bitter Lemon. Why do we not have this in America???