By the time I arrived in Mexico City, I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome, a condition that left me exhausted and frustrated.
The doctor in charge of my case told me to go home.
The treatment, however, would be different in Mexico than it is here in the United States.
It was in the Mexican capital, Mexico City’s largest, that I met my wife, Carmen.
She’d been a nurse at a large public hospital, and I’d been diagnosed with the condition.
Carmen, who was a Mexican citizen, was in her late twenties, a year younger than I was.
She had been working as a nurse in a hospital in the capital, and was very good with her hands, so I decided to try it myself.
The process was different for me in Mexico, and it was a bit more challenging, but I managed to get better.
When I returned to the United United States, Carmen told me that she’d started feeling better and was getting better.
But it was hard to know that her doctor had been so concerned about my symptoms.
So I decided I’d just have to take it for what it was.
The diagnosis made me wonder what the treatment would be like here.
But how could I have imagined what life would be without a doctor?
After a while, I started to think about my family and the doctors who worked at the hospital.
The hospital was small, and the medical staff was largely made up of foreign nationals.
It seemed to me that I could be treated without a referral to a doctor.
In a way, it was the only place I knew of that didn’t treat you like a person, and didn’t make you feel like you were sick.
I was determined to get a referral from the hospital’s doctor to an in-house doctor, and to get my own appointment to see him.
I decided that it would be a good idea to have a referral in order to be seen.
I thought that the doctor would have a little something to do with it.
It’s hard to explain the difference between the experience of going to a hospital and going to see a doctor—it’s hard enough to understand that there are people who don’t like the word doctor.
But I did feel like I was in an alien environment.
The only doctor in the hospital, a physician called Jose, was very accommodating.
I got a referral.
The referral went well.
I met Jose.
The next day, he asked me to come for an appointment.
I arrived the next morning, and when I walked into the room, I felt so much better than I had in weeks.
I went back for my appointment the following week, and met with Jose.
I had to be there every single day for three months, because I was the patient who had been diagnosed.
Jose told me what the doctors were doing and how they were doing it.
I learned that my illness was due to a virus.
It turned out that my condition had been caused by a different virus, and that my treatment would involve a virus treatment, which was the next step.
It made me realize that I had been living with a virus for quite some time.
In the meantime, I met other patients who also had symptoms.
When we got together to do our first in-person consultation, it felt like we were living in a different world.
We were going to do something different, but we were in a very different world, too.
And I realized that I was a little bit scared of how things were going.
It didn’t help that I didn’t know anything about my illness.
I wasn’t really used to feeling scared, but the more I went to see the doctors, the more scared I got.
I started thinking about what the word ‘doctor’ meant, and what it meant to be a doctor in a culture where it’s not a word to be taken lightly.
I began to wonder how it felt to be treated like a virus in a place like this.
I ended up in the ER at the Mayo Clinic, where I started a course called ‘Virus and Immune Deficiency in the Patient With Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.’
I started there because it was in a community hospital, but it wasn’t a traditional community.
The staff was very welcoming and helpful.
They even gave me a vaccination.
I didn, however at the time, have the vaccine, so my doctor suggested I go to another hospital.
That hospital, the one where I’d be getting my vaccine, was called México City, and as I got there, I noticed a woman named Ana, and then I saw Carmen.
I saw her and Carmen, and we both had the same symptoms: exhaustion, pain, and tiredness.
I said, “I feel like a zombie.”
I felt like a little guy, like a guy who was always tired.
She said, “(I) know what I feel like.”
And I said to