Claptrap 3

I had slept quite badly, so I went in the kitchen with my bleeding foot, boiled some water and made some extra strong tea, got my dictionary and insurance certificate and then limped out the door. Claptrap had already fallen back asleep and didn't say goodbye. I had no idea where to find a hospital, so I went out to the street and started asking passersby; one of them told me to dial 112, which I did and the operator told me where to catch a bus. My foot was starting to ache some and the tea made me calm, I was resigned to the pain, which would get worse, and I started to look forward to the bus ride, the new words, seeing what Russian hospitals were all about, and above all, a bad story.
The bus drove down a sidestreet parallel to the main road and leading to Andrei and Julia's apartment, then to a large stand of birches, and a hospital hat looked like it had been whitewashed goldenrod. The receptionist sent me to an office where I registered, but they had never seen my type of certificate before, and did not know where I was registered because my landlord had refused to give me the proper documentation in order to not pay taxes. I sat down in the hallway and waited, and when it was my turn they asked me what happened, gave me a tetanus shot, dumped alcohol on my foot, and then aggressively and thoroughly swabbed out the inside of the wound; the elderly nurse smirked when I yelled. I guess Russians don't yell when they're in pain. I was not officially registered anywhere and had signed nothing, which meant they were treating me for free, so I gave her 100 rubles, which she declined.
I called my students to let them know what was happening, rescheduled the classes that could be, and started a tally of the ones I had to miss, and how much this was costing me. Apart from sink, I came immediately to a figure of 4000 rubles; plus, every two days I would have to get my foot rebandanged, which would mean missing more classes.
I taught my afternoon classes, and at the end of the day got in a taxi and got my foot rebandaged at another hospital, which again asked where I was registered. I explained everything and they just did their job and refused payment. When I got home Claptrap was absent, which was a relief. The entire day I had had no desire to speak to him.