Bella Checks Out the Free Clinic

I have to tell you about going to the San Pedro Polyclinic. Both Shelley and Tom had gotten sick in the past two weeks. Nothing serious, but their coughing, frankly, has been keeping me up at night. One of their friends said lots of people were complaining of a lingering cough and suggested going to the clinic in town, so they decided to check it out. 

Let's face it, I knew from the outset that I wasn't going to actually get inside the clinic, but I sure wasn't about to stay at home either. The picture to the right is my sad, forlorn look (Aww, let me in. nobody will mind) but of course it didn't work, so I stayed outside on the steps. By the way, even though it's January, it's HOT here, but the clinic isn't air-conditioned, so I guess it didn't make much difference.

The upshot is, the clinic was clean and efficient, and the staff was
pleasant. Weight and blood pressure was checked, and after a short wait, they saw an extremely pleasant doctor who did a thorough examination, then prescribed the necessary medication. Both the treatment AND the medication were totally free. The clinic is run by the government and is even free for tourists. Posters on the wall say that Healthcare is your right! We left a donation which was graciously received, and then Shelley volunteered to go buy lunch for the receptionists who were working a double shift that day! Boy, did the ladies love that. It never hurts to plant good seed!

And now a little update from yesterday:

A lady told Tom last week that she had gained 40 pounds after she and her husband got a golf cart. So Tom has been on sort of a kick about walking into town or sometimes to town and back. Round trip is about five miles. Tom thinks that I should get exercise as well and likes to take me with him. 

Bella at Dianita's

Well, after lunch at Dianita's, a Belizean restaurant owned by our friend Anna, Tom said he and I would walk home. (Groan. I'm telling you, it's HOT here!) Off we went. I've told you before, my legs are only six inches long, so I walk about half a block, then get carried. Tom knows when to carry me, because I sit down and refuse to move. 

About a quarter mile from our house, right past where the crocodiles live, the road turns left. If you were to continue straight rather than making a dogleg to the right (I don't particularly like that term ) you would wind up on the beach on the Caribbean side of the island. As we made the turn, a guy on a golf cart with a little white dog on his lap was coming from the beach road--where the really nice houses are-- and stopped to say hi. Tom carried me close to the other dog and I did my obligatory growl meaning "Back off, buddy." Tom and the guy chatted about their dogs (his was named George), then Tom introduced me and himself. The other guy said, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Jerry Jeff." 

Oh, yeah!  Jerry Jeff Walker, the famous guy we said we didn't hang with. Well, I guess now we do!

When Shelley and Anna got back to the house, Tom told them the Jerry Jeff story, and both of the women asked what Tom had said or done after that. Tom said, "I just said goodbye. What did you expect me to say?" Anna said, "You should have said, 'Will you sign my dog!'"

Y’all come visit us. We’ll hang out with Jerry Jeff. You’re gonna love Belize!