Being on Duromine is a trip within itself.
I'm abusing Duromine.
My chemist just smiles.
'If you got the script, I'll prescribe.'
I like Andy Chan a lot.
He doesn't ask me how I'm abusing.
He doesn't have to.
He can see it in my eyes.
And speech.
And actions.
I've become their neurotic specimen.
I'm losing weight, and that's all you should be concerned about, says the owner, a tall Ukrainian.
I'm testing his patience.
Eventually he'll show me how Insane in the Ukraine he really is.
But until that day, I keep on patronising his establishment.
I'm getting wittier.
I'm slagging off my doctor next door, the Syrian.
'I'm Bulgarian.'
He'll eventually forsake me.
They all do.
One thing doctors are shit scared of in Australia, is losing their license.
Not my South African doctor, Dr. Prue.
She's Caucasian, English is her 'official' language and she will even give me repeats on Duromine.
It’s only the ‘foreign’ doctors, the Bangladeshis, Syrians, Indian Fijians, black South Africans, that are scared about losing their license.
They don’t need to draw any heat.
The kind of heat that will investigate their credentials.
