Living in Sweden is character building #2- The health care system part 1

The Health Care System- Part 1

Mr Eriksson was not happy this morning. He gave me the three D’s alternative- death, divorce or doctor. Apparently he is upset with my chardonay-a-day habit and is convinced I will die from an alcohol induced accident or eventual liver decay. Such melodrama for a Swede. Rather unusual. I told him that I didn’t find it a problem and maybe he should really ask himself why this is difficult for him. After all, my alcohol consumption is purely medicinal as it is bloody cold inside the home, ( 17 degrees) and about 10 degress outside. Not sexy, if you know what I mean.
Anway he was adamant that I go to the local vårdcentral and seek some sort of medicial help for my condition otherwise he was going to leave me. He said. ”Mrs Eriksson, I’ve had enough” I popped my last prozac pill, making a mental note to myself I need to get more and told him we should talk about this rationally. Aren’t you over reacting? He sited what he considered crimes which showed a lack of judgement that could only be explained by a woman under the influence. I asked him to please give me specifics;

Apparently it was noted that I ”borrowed” our neighbor’s rusty children’s pram and took it to the local bottle shop, System Bolaget and stocked up on some decent grog. What's wrong with that? I pushed the rattly and rusty pram home with some Aussie and one or two South African wines . Problem? The South African's can trade now. (I gave one bottle to the guys on the park bench- one thing Sweden has taught me and that is to share with those who are less fortunate than myself. They thought it was Christmas. Isn't this being a Socialist?)

I don’t see anything wrong with that I told Mr Eriksson, that’s just being practical taking the grog in the pram and not having to carry them in bursting plastic bags! And besides, I argued further, that’s for the dinner party on week 39! Mr Eriksson said that WE were invited to the hosts house for dinner. THEY were not coming to us. I had bought booze for what he considered a Christmas party for journalists. Well, it’s all a matter of perspective, I said. Our hosts won’t need to buy any booze if we bring our own! That’s being economical! You're always telling me I spend too much.
And then he brought up the incident when I didn’t come home until 6am the next morning after telling him I had gone out to buy some bread the previous evening. Well, it’s not easy in a new country, one has to get acquainted with the coordinates of getting back home. I was geniunely lost. Mr Eriksson found this answer quite lame and gave his last warning before leaving out the door. Oh dear, that will teach me to take the neighbours pram without asking!