I read somewhere that you should not make excuses as to why you can't blog; that blogging can be done in 15 minutes. So I thought I'd take their statement as a personal challenge, and attempt to write an interesting blog in a quarter of an hour.... starting... NOW!

Australia being my home for a little over two years now, and my most memorable impression of this large island continent, is that I seem to be always sick. I paid this no major attention when I first arrived as I accredited my ailments to the fact that my body was still getting used to all the new bacteria, viruses etc. Not particularly happy to be inviting these pests into my body, but resigned to the idea that 'what does not kill you, will make you stronger'. It is now officially something which pisses me off... getting sick. I mean, really! How many times is considered normal? When should one say to their family phisician... "what the hell is wrong with this picture? Should I be sick this often?

I don't know... maybe it's because my mother was (and is) the type of person that, unless your arm is hanging by a thread, she does not take you to the doctor. Side Note: True story... I broke my ankle in High School, and I was not taken to see a doctor until a month after the incident; by then the ankle had healed itself... badly. My mother complained all the way home, at the fact that she had to pay for the pricey X-rays, to only be dissapointed by the final outcome. The doctor said - "we can't do anything about it, except re-break the ankle, without anestesia" to which suggestion I strongly opposed... imagine that! So, back to my reason for not going to the doctor's office when I'm sick... ah yes, it's all my mother's fault. I get a cough, and I think to myself, "it's not a big deal". The bad thing though, is that it could indeed be a serious matter, and if not taken care of it could result in catastrophy.

The dillema begins. If I go to the doctor for every little thing, I am labelled a hipochondriac. If I don't go to the doctor at all, I'm labelled as... as... I don't know exactly, what I'm labelled as; perhaps a strong person? Yes, but... if I should suffer a tragic misfortune and lose my life due to a terrible illness, then I will be judged by the people coming to my wake. "Why didn't she seek help?" they will wave their fist to the sky, almost expecting God to give them a reply. (Perhaps I'm being a little melo-dramatic). Go. Don't go. Go. Don't go. What is the right answer?

The moral to this story?

1. I managed to write something in 15 minutes to post on my blog.

2. I am a tortured soul, who cannot make up her own mind to save her life.

3. Perhaps I should see a doctor for this persistent and annoying cough. What do you think? Lets vote, why don't we?