I freaking hate that country.

I can't think of any other title for this post, really. I could try naming it something more sensitive and then proceed to talk about how bloody scary this few days have been for me, but that really wouldn't be much fun now would it? (Damn, I'm starting to sound like yahtzee)

Anyways, this time, it really is the last straw. I'm sorry if you come from there, but the doctors in your country are useless. Even your specialists seem to have less medical training than a five year old waving a pink plastic stethoscope around. I will never forget the day that your doctors told my dad he needed an operation when all he needed were a few pills and a few lozenges. It seems like the only person who can get decent healthcare in your festering pus-pit of a country is your ex-president who seems to be more resilient than a cockroach.

This time, you people almost killed my dad. I'm not exaggerating. If he had waited another day for your bloody specialist to turn up, he wouldn't have come back in a wheelchair. He would be back in a coffin. As it is, I think that we got lucky. I have never seen him that way, and I never want to ever again.

Sure, there are lots of parties to blame. Sure, blaming an entire country for the failings of a few who were supposed to provide the very basic medical services is a simplistic and very unfair way of looking at the situation. But I'm pissed. One too many times, I say. I can only forgive so many times, and this time the transgression has taken a step too far.

I have never really liked the country, save for one little trip to the education capital. Most of the time, I reach the KLIA with a feeling of relief, as if I have returned to civilization. I don't expect I'll return willingly there.