“Tonight, Oli himself calls the service of medicin de garde,” San says, her face tight. “He requests a consultation from the SOS medicin as the doctor is on duty this Saturday.” He is conscious, but the headache seems obviously fierce. It has been more than a week since he suffered from this headache. He already went to the general practitioner a week earlier, yet it doesn’t seem to help much. The doctor thought it was just a migraine. It must be some- thing else.
“Oli isn’t a whiner,” she says, “if the pain was bearable, I know he wouldn’t say a word.” Yet, he moans, the pain nags him, “the Doliprane didn’t diminish his suffering,” she continues, “nor did the Zomiltriptan that was supposed to calm down the mi- graines.”
Now, it has only been three years and two months since they got married. Or ten months since their baby son completed their little family. Or, precisely, four years since the technology of the Internet connected their fervor. It has been only four short years, and things seem to signal the end of their story.