11 hours at Ikea and all I got was this stupid kitchen
[jordanna]
Of course we weren't really at Ikea for 11 hours, 5 of those hours were spent driving our truck (through a flood on the way there, check the pics!). Ikea is a torturous necessity in life. It offers so many solutions to problems you never knew you had (clearly the towel to wipe the dog's feet HAS to hang on a hook shaped like a dog heiny). And, to be honest, walking in and buying cabinets for a kitchen that I designed and get to build is fulfilling a long time dream of mine. After picking up all the cabinets, I am no longer deluded into thinking we will be installing them on Sunday. It is going to take us until labor day to assemble them. Despite the 6 hours shopping, we managed to exit Ikea with only 100$ of unplanned purchases (including a 2$ milk frother, an aloe plant, and 2 handblown smoke colored scotch tumblers). For this I think we deserve a medal.
It's more than just a name...it's a lifestyle.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Home Again! Except It's A New Home...
[tyson]
So we have, since our last post:
1) Explored Ostia Antica, the ancient Roman port city at the mouth of the Tiber river
2) Flown home from Europe (very long trip but not very exciting)
3) Packed everything we own into our truck and a U-Haul trailer and driven to Tucson AZ from Seattle
4) Begun our kitchen remodel
5) Sweated a lot. I mean...a...lot.
Ok, I'll try and keep this short and hit the relatively salient points.
Rome was amazing. It was soooo old. The ruins were everywhere. And I don't mean everywhere as in there were lots of special places to go to see ruins. You can be walking down the street trying to decipher your Lonely Planet map to find the place where Julius Caesar was stabbed and realize that your standing right on top of it. At a bus stop. Next to a post office. To commemorate the site the Romans may or may not have gone so far as to place a plaque. The whole place is just business as usual in what used to be the center of the Western world and might be again someday. The Romans aren't fazed in the least. Gives one a bit of perspective on our country's prediliction to stake out 4 acres, string barbed-wire, and set up a Homeland Security checkpoint for the signing point of the Smoot-Hawley Tariff.
Anyway, we went to the collesium and it was stunning but freaking dilapidated. I understand that its very old but for the love of christ it can't be that difficult to take care of. I've never actually been in charge of a 2000 year old amphitheater but seriously, how hard can it be?
So after 5 days in Berlin, 2 days in Brussels, and 5 days in Rome we were burned out on European capital cities and bailed for the Tyrrhenian Sea and the Port City of Ostia Antica. It ruled. Our hotel was ON the water. I didn't actually time myself (we forgot a watch and so had no idea what time it was the entire time, ahh...vacation) but I bet I could have sprinted from the door of our hotel and made it into the water in about 6 seconds. The water was silly warm. I take colder showers on a regular basis. In true form to our respective personalities within 20 minutes of checking in to our room Jordanna was sacked out in a swishy beach chair in the sun with a book while I played in the water till my eyes burned from the salt and I couldn't find my way back to our stuff. It was a very very very salty body of water. In my own defense you almost had to open your eyes under water because you kind of felt like a treasure hunter about to discover a lost Etruscan galleon. The water had a strange azure-Mediterranean-blue cast to it that reminded me of every underwater archeology show I've ever seen on TV. Or maybe that's just me.
Anyway, Ostia Antica was a major port city in its time (2nd century AD) but was left to be buried in river silt after its decline. As a result (much like Pompey) it was very well preserved against "the ravages of time." The ruins were spectacular. I'll be posting all the travel pictures later this week but suffice it to say we were blown away. Below is a shot of the baths taken from the second story.
So then we flew home. 27 hours. It sucked. We flew through a serious thunder/lightning storm and a couple of times the plane dropped hard enough that I was glad I was wearing my seat belt.
Almost immediately upon our return home we packed all our wordly possessions into our vehicles and drove to Arizona. Sounds simple right? "We drove to Arizona." Nope.
Jordanna drove our VW station wagon filled with our "valuables" (stereo equipment, guitar, violin, xbox, etc), and our 3 cats all stuffed into a wire dog cage. I drove our truck with a fully packed bed dragging a 6 x 12 U-Haul trailer behind it. We estimated the total weight of truck + trailer at almost 5 tons. No problem.
We made it almost 100 miles before the truck overheated and tried to die. We refused to let the poor thing pass peacefully onto the next life and flogged it all the way into Idaho before it ran into the Bitterfoot mountain range and begged to be allowed to discorporate. No way Jose. Instead we reverted to plan B (slightly cheaper than plan C which was to limp to the nearest used car dealership and trade the fucker in for a newer truck) and went nocturnal. We found the nearest motel, slept 4 hours until 9pm, woke up and drove till noon the next day. Then we crashed like only stupid 30 year olds on a road trip who think they're still 18 can crash. Next stop Vegas, arriving at 8:30 the next morning. We stayed with my Dad (Papa Sprayberry) and left that night around 10pm rolling into Tucson the next morning at 9am.
Now we're in Tucson, staying with Jeff and David while we rip out and remodel our kitchen. The house is awesome and we could certainly sleep there if the water was on. As it is we very seriously need to shower at the end of each day so we're just sleeping at their house till ours is set to move into.
That's it for now. Pics to follow. Here's a couple of shots I took coming into AZ as the sun was rising.
[tyson]
So we have, since our last post:
1) Explored Ostia Antica, the ancient Roman port city at the mouth of the Tiber river
2) Flown home from Europe (very long trip but not very exciting)
3) Packed everything we own into our truck and a U-Haul trailer and driven to Tucson AZ from Seattle
4) Begun our kitchen remodel
5) Sweated a lot. I mean...a...lot.
Ok, I'll try and keep this short and hit the relatively salient points.
Rome was amazing. It was soooo old. The ruins were everywhere. And I don't mean everywhere as in there were lots of special places to go to see ruins. You can be walking down the street trying to decipher your Lonely Planet map to find the place where Julius Caesar was stabbed and realize that your standing right on top of it. At a bus stop. Next to a post office. To commemorate the site the Romans may or may not have gone so far as to place a plaque. The whole place is just business as usual in what used to be the center of the Western world and might be again someday. The Romans aren't fazed in the least. Gives one a bit of perspective on our country's prediliction to stake out 4 acres, string barbed-wire, and set up a Homeland Security checkpoint for the signing point of the Smoot-Hawley Tariff.
Anyway, we went to the collesium and it was stunning but freaking dilapidated. I understand that its very old but for the love of christ it can't be that difficult to take care of. I've never actually been in charge of a 2000 year old amphitheater but seriously, how hard can it be?
So after 5 days in Berlin, 2 days in Brussels, and 5 days in Rome we were burned out on European capital cities and bailed for the Tyrrhenian Sea and the Port City of Ostia Antica. It ruled. Our hotel was ON the water. I didn't actually time myself (we forgot a watch and so had no idea what time it was the entire time, ahh...vacation) but I bet I could have sprinted from the door of our hotel and made it into the water in about 6 seconds. The water was silly warm. I take colder showers on a regular basis. In true form to our respective personalities within 20 minutes of checking in to our room Jordanna was sacked out in a swishy beach chair in the sun with a book while I played in the water till my eyes burned from the salt and I couldn't find my way back to our stuff. It was a very very very salty body of water. In my own defense you almost had to open your eyes under water because you kind of felt like a treasure hunter about to discover a lost Etruscan galleon. The water had a strange azure-Mediterranean-blue cast to it that reminded me of every underwater archeology show I've ever seen on TV. Or maybe that's just me.
Anyway, Ostia Antica was a major port city in its time (2nd century AD) but was left to be buried in river silt after its decline. As a result (much like Pompey) it was very well preserved against "the ravages of time." The ruins were spectacular. I'll be posting all the travel pictures later this week but suffice it to say we were blown away. Below is a shot of the baths taken from the second story.
So then we flew home. 27 hours. It sucked. We flew through a serious thunder/lightning storm and a couple of times the plane dropped hard enough that I was glad I was wearing my seat belt.
Almost immediately upon our return home we packed all our wordly possessions into our vehicles and drove to Arizona. Sounds simple right? "We drove to Arizona." Nope.
Jordanna drove our VW station wagon filled with our "valuables" (stereo equipment, guitar, violin, xbox, etc), and our 3 cats all stuffed into a wire dog cage. I drove our truck with a fully packed bed dragging a 6 x 12 U-Haul trailer behind it. We estimated the total weight of truck + trailer at almost 5 tons. No problem.
We made it almost 100 miles before the truck overheated and tried to die. We refused to let the poor thing pass peacefully onto the next life and flogged it all the way into Idaho before it ran into the Bitterfoot mountain range and begged to be allowed to discorporate. No way Jose. Instead we reverted to plan B (slightly cheaper than plan C which was to limp to the nearest used car dealership and trade the fucker in for a newer truck) and went nocturnal. We found the nearest motel, slept 4 hours until 9pm, woke up and drove till noon the next day. Then we crashed like only stupid 30 year olds on a road trip who think they're still 18 can crash. Next stop Vegas, arriving at 8:30 the next morning. We stayed with my Dad (Papa Sprayberry) and left that night around 10pm rolling into Tucson the next morning at 9am.
Now we're in Tucson, staying with Jeff and David while we rip out and remodel our kitchen. The house is awesome and we could certainly sleep there if the water was on. As it is we very seriously need to shower at the end of each day so we're just sleeping at their house till ours is set to move into.
That's it for now. Pics to follow. Here's a couple of shots I took coming into AZ as the sun was rising.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Basilica di San Pietro (Saint Peter's Basilica)
[tyson]
Wow. There's not a lot I can say to really describe how enormous that place is. First of all you can't even get in if you're wearing shorts, a tank top, or a short skirt. They have a little hut you have to pass through with a couple of guards turning away the faithful yet scantily clad throngs. Of course before you even get to the fashion police you have to pass through an airport style metal detector and x-ray security checkpoint complete with armed guards and pat downs.
Once through the security you can enter the Basilica proper and it simply takes your breath away. So many statues, paintings, the dome itself, the foot of St. Peter, etc. We got a great picture of Ty kneeling on the spot (big red marble circle) where Charlemagne was crowned. We're not really big art history buffs but even so it was amazing to see all these serious religious relics.
That was yesterday. This morning we checked out the Piazza de Spagna and the house where John Keats died (for all you Hyperion fans out there it was kind of a surreal experience, we kept expecting to see the Shrike) as well as the famous shopping steets nearby. JD is still recovering a bit from her ordeal (see last post) so we're calling a siesta till this evening when we'll go back out for the big Italy-France game. We're solidly rooting for France so we found a Scottish bar to watch the game in. :)
Tomorrow we'll head for our last hotel in the ancient port city of Ostia Antica. Should be interesting. More to come on the celebrations (or lack thereof) following the game tonight.
[tyson]
Wow. There's not a lot I can say to really describe how enormous that place is. First of all you can't even get in if you're wearing shorts, a tank top, or a short skirt. They have a little hut you have to pass through with a couple of guards turning away the faithful yet scantily clad throngs. Of course before you even get to the fashion police you have to pass through an airport style metal detector and x-ray security checkpoint complete with armed guards and pat downs.
Once through the security you can enter the Basilica proper and it simply takes your breath away. So many statues, paintings, the dome itself, the foot of St. Peter, etc. We got a great picture of Ty kneeling on the spot (big red marble circle) where Charlemagne was crowned. We're not really big art history buffs but even so it was amazing to see all these serious religious relics.
That was yesterday. This morning we checked out the Piazza de Spagna and the house where John Keats died (for all you Hyperion fans out there it was kind of a surreal experience, we kept expecting to see the Shrike) as well as the famous shopping steets nearby. JD is still recovering a bit from her ordeal (see last post) so we're calling a siesta till this evening when we'll go back out for the big Italy-France game. We're solidly rooting for France so we found a Scottish bar to watch the game in. :)
Tomorrow we'll head for our last hotel in the ancient port city of Ostia Antica. Should be interesting. More to come on the celebrations (or lack thereof) following the game tonight.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
The Good News is I Have NO Brain Tumours!
[jordanna]
Dont we all feel better now. There will apparently be no punctuation in this blog because this s a retarded keyboard, where the markings on the keys only occasionally match what comes out. Moving on...
Shortly after Ty posted that I was sick he went on a mission to figure out what the doctor situation was. I suggested the US embassy as a source of information, but he found a very helpful pharmacist and a couple gregarious doctors (who could not help us). As is turns out, in emergency situations, Italian social health care extends to everyone. You can always go to the emergency room for free. The night before, the receptionist at our hostel had suggested we go to Policlinico, the Largest Hospital in the Capital City. She mentioned that going for her foot took three hours. We were warned. Or so we thought. There was no way we could have EVER been prepared.
Chapter one... Triage. Thurday afternoon, 3 pm we arrive at the emergency room. By this I mean one small waiting room with maybe 15 small wooden chairs down each side and a packed hallway. Next to the waiting room there is a triage room. We were admitted to triage within 10 minutes, which got me thinking this wasn't going to be so bad. We communicated that I had had bladder spasms for 10 days, and within the past 24 hours nausea, chest tingling and dizziness had been added, making me think that the bladder infection was getting bad. Enter the point where I should have lied. When you know you have a bladder infection and a foreign health professional asks you if you have burning urination, YOU SAY YES! I am not in the habit of lying, especially not to doctors. I answered, honestly, that I had stinging after urination but not any bad burning during. At this point they asked me to pee on a stick and sent Ty to a waiting area. This means they wrapped the base of what looked like an elaborate litmus stick in gauze and said, bring this back when you have peed on it. After a separate adventure involving finding said bathroom, I bring it back to the triage room, dripping urine down the halls as I go. A different nurse takes it from me and puts it somewhere. I am banished to the waiting area. So I think that they will read the test, decide whether or not to give me anitbiotics and send me packing. NOT SO. Three and half hours later we get somebody to tell us what is going on. People are seen on a level of need basis. With a triage staff of four, and my demise not being imminently near, we were at the bottom of the list. At a little over four hours we thought about leaving, but decided to stick it out. I fell asleep upright in the chairs. At five hours, they called my name (Finally! We will see a doctor and go!)
Chapter 2... The First Doctor We were escorted to a room that almost defies description, at which point Ty was shunted off to a family waiting area. Double doors at each end of a large rectangular room, with three small rooms down each side. The center was occupied by two rows, back to back, of hospital beds packed in like sardines filled with groaning old people. I never saw the inside of the middle ones, but the first corner room I went into was an examination room. I lay down on the bed, and a nurse comes over to me and asks me what my symptoms are. She asked how long is the bladder pain, I say ten days. She asked if the chest sensation and shortness of breath are new. Enter MAJOR MISCOMMUNICATION I say yes, thinking she means new for this illness. She translates my symptoms for the doctor, while a large old bald man comes over, swabs my wrists and anknles with a wet washcloth, yanks up my shirt and bra and does the same to my chest. He turns around and comes back with a machine the size of an old timer typewriter with 8 dangling blue balls with metal hats sticking out of it. He clamps metal paddles to my wrists and ankles, then suctions ALL 8 balls to my chest. The machine starts to spit out an EKG, at which point he rips everything off and a pull my shirst back down. He then puts an IV lock into my wrist (a primary IV shunt straight into the vein that allows blood to be withdrawn and medicine to be injected) and pulls about 4 vials of blood. The nice nurse then leads me to another corner room, which has 8 more wooden chairs, and three reclining chairs. After who knows how long, she comes back and tells me that lab had a problem with my blood, could they please take more. I follow nice nurse back, and a different guy grabs my wrist, stuffs a syringe into the portal and starts tugging away violently trying to fill it with blood. After about 120 seconds of struggle he succeeds. I then ask the nurse if the results of my urine test are in, because I think I have a bladder infection. She stares at me as though I have four heads. Apparently triage man threw it in the trash. She brinds me a new stick, and a glove! Which I go to the bathroom to pee on. At this point it is amazing I have pee left, as I only brought a half liter of water with me. I pee on the stick and give it back to her. Ty comes in a bit later, having snuck past the gaurds. He asks if I want anything. I haven't wanted anything to do with food since breakfast that morning, but I ask for a drink. He finds a cart and eats a sandwich, then brings me a powerade. This bottle becomes my constant companion. I can pull a plastic lid off with my hands, then open and shut the nozzle with my teeth, never toucing the part I drink from. Later I will explain why this is necessary. Ty tells me its eleven thirty, and that weve been here over 8 hours. Shortly after this the nurse comes to fetch me and take me to a new doctor. The new doctor turns out to be a neurologist who proceeds to poke me with pins, and stroke different parts of my body and finally determines that my neurological exam is normal. She then informes me that i must stay over night to get an MRI the next morning.
Chapter 3...Overnight with a Poo-Splattered Bathroom
We decided Ty should go home for the night but before he left he made me a bed of two of the chairs in the waiting room (staying overnight did not include a bed, food, or water). I filled my water bottle and went to the bathroom again. None of the bathrooms in Italian hospitals have toilet seats, soap, or janitors. There was blood on the sink and the floor, and by the time i went back in the middle of the night there was poo on the toilet and the floor. This is why i was SO EXCITED that i could use my water bottle without touching it. I slept through the night, and Ty came back to check on me at 0730. The nice nurse had said we should be out of there by noon on Friday. Ty made plans to come back at eleven and left again to check out of our hostel. When he came back at 1100 i still hadnt been seen, and about an hour later he left to find out what was going on. He found a nurse who spoke french and told her that there had been a miscommunication and because i dont speak italian i had been unable to communicate well that i had a bladder infection. she went off to talk to the doctors then came to report that after we got the MRI she would speak with the doctors with us and we could get a prescription for antibiotics.
Chapter 4...The MRI
The MRI doctor spoke very good english. They examined my brain and my spine and the doctor said the tests looked fine and i was ok.
Chapter 5... Endgame
Ty found the french speaking nurse when we got back to the waiting area. She said they were waiting for test results, i wasnt dying, there was a slight problem with my bladder and we would be out of there with our prescription in one to two hours. Ty left to check into our new hotel and got back at just about the two hour mark. Shortly after a nurse delivered a new patient to the waiting area. I stopped the nurse and explained that i was waiting to leave. She spoke no english but the new patient did and kindly translated. The nurse returned shortly and through the new patient told me that my MRI results would not be in till tomorrow and i needed to stay overnight. At this point i started to cry and told her i had already been here 26 hours. she brought me to see the doctor.
The doctor spoke no english either but had an english speaking assistant. the assistant was very kind as i explained to him that i have a bladder infection (repeated all my symptoms again) and had been kept in the hospital with no medication or food for over a day. he spoke with the doctor and then came back and asked if i had an MRI. i said yes, and he asked why. i told him i didnt know but i could NOT STAY IN THE HOSPITAL ANOTHER NIGHT. he explained this to the doctor, kicked Ty out, and then left himself. The doctor angrily handed me a printout to sign. Before signing i asked if there was a prescription for antibiotics in there. She said no and asked me if i had bladder pain. I said Yes. She stomped out and came back with a prescription. I signed all her paperwork and we fled.
General notes... With few exceptions the health care personnel were incredibly kind and friendly. They genuinely wanted to help, and the language barrier was our major hurdle. I have always been an advocate of social healthcare, but this experience has made me realize there are pros and CONS. In the largest hospital in the country's capital city this hospital had the feel of an African bush hospital. They were ridiculously understaffed and striving to maintain any level of sanity. It was the dirtiest hospital I have ever been in. The room I spent 21 hours waiting in smelled, literally, like rot (I have been in a room with gangrene and I am not, for once, exaggerating). If I had money, I would endow it to that hospital. They are trying so hard.
PS- now i have enough Cipro to kill a horse and feel much better.
[jordanna]
Dont we all feel better now. There will apparently be no punctuation in this blog because this s a retarded keyboard, where the markings on the keys only occasionally match what comes out. Moving on...
Shortly after Ty posted that I was sick he went on a mission to figure out what the doctor situation was. I suggested the US embassy as a source of information, but he found a very helpful pharmacist and a couple gregarious doctors (who could not help us). As is turns out, in emergency situations, Italian social health care extends to everyone. You can always go to the emergency room for free. The night before, the receptionist at our hostel had suggested we go to Policlinico, the Largest Hospital in the Capital City. She mentioned that going for her foot took three hours. We were warned. Or so we thought. There was no way we could have EVER been prepared.
Chapter one... Triage. Thurday afternoon, 3 pm we arrive at the emergency room. By this I mean one small waiting room with maybe 15 small wooden chairs down each side and a packed hallway. Next to the waiting room there is a triage room. We were admitted to triage within 10 minutes, which got me thinking this wasn't going to be so bad. We communicated that I had had bladder spasms for 10 days, and within the past 24 hours nausea, chest tingling and dizziness had been added, making me think that the bladder infection was getting bad. Enter the point where I should have lied. When you know you have a bladder infection and a foreign health professional asks you if you have burning urination, YOU SAY YES! I am not in the habit of lying, especially not to doctors. I answered, honestly, that I had stinging after urination but not any bad burning during. At this point they asked me to pee on a stick and sent Ty to a waiting area. This means they wrapped the base of what looked like an elaborate litmus stick in gauze and said, bring this back when you have peed on it. After a separate adventure involving finding said bathroom, I bring it back to the triage room, dripping urine down the halls as I go. A different nurse takes it from me and puts it somewhere. I am banished to the waiting area. So I think that they will read the test, decide whether or not to give me anitbiotics and send me packing. NOT SO. Three and half hours later we get somebody to tell us what is going on. People are seen on a level of need basis. With a triage staff of four, and my demise not being imminently near, we were at the bottom of the list. At a little over four hours we thought about leaving, but decided to stick it out. I fell asleep upright in the chairs. At five hours, they called my name (Finally! We will see a doctor and go!)
Chapter 2... The First Doctor We were escorted to a room that almost defies description, at which point Ty was shunted off to a family waiting area. Double doors at each end of a large rectangular room, with three small rooms down each side. The center was occupied by two rows, back to back, of hospital beds packed in like sardines filled with groaning old people. I never saw the inside of the middle ones, but the first corner room I went into was an examination room. I lay down on the bed, and a nurse comes over to me and asks me what my symptoms are. She asked how long is the bladder pain, I say ten days. She asked if the chest sensation and shortness of breath are new. Enter MAJOR MISCOMMUNICATION I say yes, thinking she means new for this illness. She translates my symptoms for the doctor, while a large old bald man comes over, swabs my wrists and anknles with a wet washcloth, yanks up my shirt and bra and does the same to my chest. He turns around and comes back with a machine the size of an old timer typewriter with 8 dangling blue balls with metal hats sticking out of it. He clamps metal paddles to my wrists and ankles, then suctions ALL 8 balls to my chest. The machine starts to spit out an EKG, at which point he rips everything off and a pull my shirst back down. He then puts an IV lock into my wrist (a primary IV shunt straight into the vein that allows blood to be withdrawn and medicine to be injected) and pulls about 4 vials of blood. The nice nurse then leads me to another corner room, which has 8 more wooden chairs, and three reclining chairs. After who knows how long, she comes back and tells me that lab had a problem with my blood, could they please take more. I follow nice nurse back, and a different guy grabs my wrist, stuffs a syringe into the portal and starts tugging away violently trying to fill it with blood. After about 120 seconds of struggle he succeeds. I then ask the nurse if the results of my urine test are in, because I think I have a bladder infection. She stares at me as though I have four heads. Apparently triage man threw it in the trash. She brinds me a new stick, and a glove! Which I go to the bathroom to pee on. At this point it is amazing I have pee left, as I only brought a half liter of water with me. I pee on the stick and give it back to her. Ty comes in a bit later, having snuck past the gaurds. He asks if I want anything. I haven't wanted anything to do with food since breakfast that morning, but I ask for a drink. He finds a cart and eats a sandwich, then brings me a powerade. This bottle becomes my constant companion. I can pull a plastic lid off with my hands, then open and shut the nozzle with my teeth, never toucing the part I drink from. Later I will explain why this is necessary. Ty tells me its eleven thirty, and that weve been here over 8 hours. Shortly after this the nurse comes to fetch me and take me to a new doctor. The new doctor turns out to be a neurologist who proceeds to poke me with pins, and stroke different parts of my body and finally determines that my neurological exam is normal. She then informes me that i must stay over night to get an MRI the next morning.
Chapter 3...Overnight with a Poo-Splattered Bathroom
We decided Ty should go home for the night but before he left he made me a bed of two of the chairs in the waiting room (staying overnight did not include a bed, food, or water). I filled my water bottle and went to the bathroom again. None of the bathrooms in Italian hospitals have toilet seats, soap, or janitors. There was blood on the sink and the floor, and by the time i went back in the middle of the night there was poo on the toilet and the floor. This is why i was SO EXCITED that i could use my water bottle without touching it. I slept through the night, and Ty came back to check on me at 0730. The nice nurse had said we should be out of there by noon on Friday. Ty made plans to come back at eleven and left again to check out of our hostel. When he came back at 1100 i still hadnt been seen, and about an hour later he left to find out what was going on. He found a nurse who spoke french and told her that there had been a miscommunication and because i dont speak italian i had been unable to communicate well that i had a bladder infection. she went off to talk to the doctors then came to report that after we got the MRI she would speak with the doctors with us and we could get a prescription for antibiotics.
Chapter 4...The MRI
The MRI doctor spoke very good english. They examined my brain and my spine and the doctor said the tests looked fine and i was ok.
Chapter 5... Endgame
Ty found the french speaking nurse when we got back to the waiting area. She said they were waiting for test results, i wasnt dying, there was a slight problem with my bladder and we would be out of there with our prescription in one to two hours. Ty left to check into our new hotel and got back at just about the two hour mark. Shortly after a nurse delivered a new patient to the waiting area. I stopped the nurse and explained that i was waiting to leave. She spoke no english but the new patient did and kindly translated. The nurse returned shortly and through the new patient told me that my MRI results would not be in till tomorrow and i needed to stay overnight. At this point i started to cry and told her i had already been here 26 hours. she brought me to see the doctor.
The doctor spoke no english either but had an english speaking assistant. the assistant was very kind as i explained to him that i have a bladder infection (repeated all my symptoms again) and had been kept in the hospital with no medication or food for over a day. he spoke with the doctor and then came back and asked if i had an MRI. i said yes, and he asked why. i told him i didnt know but i could NOT STAY IN THE HOSPITAL ANOTHER NIGHT. he explained this to the doctor, kicked Ty out, and then left himself. The doctor angrily handed me a printout to sign. Before signing i asked if there was a prescription for antibiotics in there. She said no and asked me if i had bladder pain. I said Yes. She stomped out and came back with a prescription. I signed all her paperwork and we fled.
General notes... With few exceptions the health care personnel were incredibly kind and friendly. They genuinely wanted to help, and the language barrier was our major hurdle. I have always been an advocate of social healthcare, but this experience has made me realize there are pros and CONS. In the largest hospital in the country's capital city this hospital had the feel of an African bush hospital. They were ridiculously understaffed and striving to maintain any level of sanity. It was the dirtiest hospital I have ever been in. The room I spent 21 hours waiting in smelled, literally, like rot (I have been in a room with gangrene and I am not, for once, exaggerating). If I had money, I would endow it to that hospital. They are trying so hard.
PS- now i have enough Cipro to kill a horse and feel much better.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Automated Voice Phone Menus Should Be Illegal
[tyson]
I had to talk to United airlines yesterday to confirm our flights but I didnt really want to give the main trainstation public phone hundreds of Euros to do it so I went through the following rigamarole-
1) Pretend my credit card was stolen so i could call them collect
2) Tell them my card was ok, but could they please transfer me to the Airlines people anyway
3) Lose my dignity to an automated voice menu
Pleasing Male Voice- Hi, If at any point during our conversation youre not sure of your options just say Help, sound good? Great, lets get started. Please say your reservation number, or if you dont know it say I dont know.
Ty- I dont know.
PMV- Did you say I dont know?
Ty- Yes.
PMV- Well lets try and find your flight information another way. Are your reservations one way, round trip or multiple cities?
Ty- (hmm, im flying one way using two carriers through multiple cities...um...) I dont know.
PMV- Did you say I dont know?
Ty- Yes.
PMV- A one way trip...(proceeds to explain the difference between one way and round trip). Are your reservations one way, round trip, or multiple cities?
Ty- Help.
PMV- Did you say help?
Ty- Yes.
PMV- Please hold for the next available agent.
40 minutes of hold then disconnected. I try again this time just yelling help into the phone nonstop. Perhaps a little demeaning but Ill never talk to that automated voice guy in person. After 30 min of holding i get in touch with an agent who finds my flight info and then the phone disconnects us again. I go get a beer.
[tyson]
I had to talk to United airlines yesterday to confirm our flights but I didnt really want to give the main trainstation public phone hundreds of Euros to do it so I went through the following rigamarole-
1) Pretend my credit card was stolen so i could call them collect
2) Tell them my card was ok, but could they please transfer me to the Airlines people anyway
3) Lose my dignity to an automated voice menu
Pleasing Male Voice- Hi, If at any point during our conversation youre not sure of your options just say Help, sound good? Great, lets get started. Please say your reservation number, or if you dont know it say I dont know.
Ty- I dont know.
PMV- Did you say I dont know?
Ty- Yes.
PMV- Well lets try and find your flight information another way. Are your reservations one way, round trip or multiple cities?
Ty- (hmm, im flying one way using two carriers through multiple cities...um...) I dont know.
PMV- Did you say I dont know?
Ty- Yes.
PMV- A one way trip...(proceeds to explain the difference between one way and round trip). Are your reservations one way, round trip, or multiple cities?
Ty- Help.
PMV- Did you say help?
Ty- Yes.
PMV- Please hold for the next available agent.
40 minutes of hold then disconnected. I try again this time just yelling help into the phone nonstop. Perhaps a little demeaning but Ill never talk to that automated voice guy in person. After 30 min of holding i get in touch with an agent who finds my flight info and then the phone disconnects us again. I go get a beer.
Other News-
1) Henry got a UTI and is sick in the hostel. Shes been waiting to see rome her whole life and now cant even leave the room. Sad doesnt even begin to describe it.
2) Rome is hot and wicked dirty. I have never in my life seen a more constant stream of tourists in and out of a city. 24 hours a day people flood into and out of the main train terminal. All with bags, from all over the world. Stunning.
3) We saw The Forum yesterday. Who graffittis a 3000 year old monument with their name? Morons.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Another Country Celebrates Wildly
[tyson]
So yet again, through no special effort on our part, we've been in a country's captial city when their national team won a huge game in the World Cup. The streets of Rome erupted last night after 2 quick goals, just minutes before a shootout, put Italy into the finals. It was pretty neat to see the goal happen and immediately hear and feel a collective roar from every direction.
We've spent the morning wandering around and having no particular agenda. On our list of things to check out are the ruins of Ostia Antica (port city), AS Roma's stadium, the Ducatti/Ferrari/Lamborghini/MV Agusta factories (we'll have to se on that one), and whatever else catches our fancy.
More exciting tales to come.
[tyson]
So yet again, through no special effort on our part, we've been in a country's captial city when their national team won a huge game in the World Cup. The streets of Rome erupted last night after 2 quick goals, just minutes before a shootout, put Italy into the finals. It was pretty neat to see the goal happen and immediately hear and feel a collective roar from every direction.
We've spent the morning wandering around and having no particular agenda. On our list of things to check out are the ruins of Ostia Antica (port city), AS Roma's stadium, the Ducatti/Ferrari/Lamborghini/MV Agusta factories (we'll have to se on that one), and whatever else catches our fancy.
More exciting tales to come.
Brussels: Not what we expected
[jordanna]
Tyson attempted to write this two days ago, but the network crashed when he tried to post it and he lost all his work. While he was attempting to explain to the proprietor of said internet shop how frustrating this was, somebody stole his new prescription sunglasses. To spare him the annoyance of redoing his blog I am taking a bash at it. You, therefore, must suffer though my lack of wit and bad spelling.
I am glad we elected to stay a day in Brussels and not go straight through to Rome. The guide books we read rave about the city, its architecture, and its cuisine. They, apparently, did not stay where we did. Ty and I were struck by how much the city reminded us of Africa when we stepped off the metro. This is largely because of the smell (garbage, stale urine), the trash (just like Africa we saw shop keepers sweeping trash away from their portion of the sidewalk), and the laid back feel. People were relaxed and unhurried. It was also the most diverse city I have seen (granted I am not an urban guru), with an immense amount of integration. We saw more interacial couples on train from the airport than I typically see in seattle in a year. The neighborhoods also had a lot of friendly mixing. From my sterile academic atmosphere I am often curious as to how everywhere I have lived in America remains so segregated, and one of my favorite parts of visiting Brussels was seeing a modern city where they appear to have overcome this. They have not, however, mastered the concept of a public trashcan. Or recycling. This was hands down the dirtiest city I have seen since Nairobi.
There was spectacular architecture. For the first time ever, we bought tickets to a tour bus. It was an open top and you could hop on and off as you pleased. We figured we were there for only one day, and it was the best way to get a quick overview. It turned out to be a great idea. Most of the sights it drove by were absolutely beautiful, and nowhere you would want to spend half a morning getting to and walking around. We did get off at the public gardens, which were 6 hectares. The most exciting part about the garden is I FINALLY KNOW WHAT A HECTARE LOOKS LIKE! They were beautiful and free. If I worked in downtown Brussels I would eat lunch there everyday. We also got to see the EU head quarters, and a giant 'atom' that was built for the 196? world fair. The more I see these ramdom contructs, the more I think the world fair is an excuse to build visually interesting but utterly useless buildings.
Once off the tour bus, we failed miserably in our mission to find the birth place of Jean Claude Van Damme. It was REALLY hot and we kind of melted. The temperature was also responsible for our inability to bring home any of the famed belgian chocolates : ( Now we are in Rome, which is bizarrely less hot. But Ty will fill you in on that later...
[jordanna]
Tyson attempted to write this two days ago, but the network crashed when he tried to post it and he lost all his work. While he was attempting to explain to the proprietor of said internet shop how frustrating this was, somebody stole his new prescription sunglasses. To spare him the annoyance of redoing his blog I am taking a bash at it. You, therefore, must suffer though my lack of wit and bad spelling.
I am glad we elected to stay a day in Brussels and not go straight through to Rome. The guide books we read rave about the city, its architecture, and its cuisine. They, apparently, did not stay where we did. Ty and I were struck by how much the city reminded us of Africa when we stepped off the metro. This is largely because of the smell (garbage, stale urine), the trash (just like Africa we saw shop keepers sweeping trash away from their portion of the sidewalk), and the laid back feel. People were relaxed and unhurried. It was also the most diverse city I have seen (granted I am not an urban guru), with an immense amount of integration. We saw more interacial couples on train from the airport than I typically see in seattle in a year. The neighborhoods also had a lot of friendly mixing. From my sterile academic atmosphere I am often curious as to how everywhere I have lived in America remains so segregated, and one of my favorite parts of visiting Brussels was seeing a modern city where they appear to have overcome this. They have not, however, mastered the concept of a public trashcan. Or recycling. This was hands down the dirtiest city I have seen since Nairobi.
There was spectacular architecture. For the first time ever, we bought tickets to a tour bus. It was an open top and you could hop on and off as you pleased. We figured we were there for only one day, and it was the best way to get a quick overview. It turned out to be a great idea. Most of the sights it drove by were absolutely beautiful, and nowhere you would want to spend half a morning getting to and walking around. We did get off at the public gardens, which were 6 hectares. The most exciting part about the garden is I FINALLY KNOW WHAT A HECTARE LOOKS LIKE! They were beautiful and free. If I worked in downtown Brussels I would eat lunch there everyday. We also got to see the EU head quarters, and a giant 'atom' that was built for the 196? world fair. The more I see these ramdom contructs, the more I think the world fair is an excuse to build visually interesting but utterly useless buildings.
Once off the tour bus, we failed miserably in our mission to find the birth place of Jean Claude Van Damme. It was REALLY hot and we kind of melted. The temperature was also responsible for our inability to bring home any of the famed belgian chocolates : ( Now we are in Rome, which is bizarrely less hot. But Ty will fill you in on that later...
Monday, July 03, 2006
Nouveau Message
[tyson]
So here we are in Brussels and what a place it is.
When we stepped off the subway onto the street the first thing that came to both our minds was an overwhelming sense of being back in Africa. The heat, the people, the music, the chatter, and the subtle olfactory presence of trash that should have been removed sometime last week. It all felt like Africa. Between colonial Congo refugees and a growing East African diaspora our particular area of Brussels happens to be a very ethnically diverse area. Bonus for us. We like Africa.
I didn't check a calendar but I hope today was a Belgian holiday. We went wandering downtown and encountered the most focused shoppers and consumers heretofore known to mankind. They sped over rough terrain and yielded to the left despite the traffic rules of their country. They moved with purpose and destiny as they accumulated plastic bags of widely varying shapes and sizes. They stopped briefly to devour Shishi smoothies and smoke a cigarette before moving on to max out their credit limit. They left us agape in their wake holding our hotel-issued water bottles and wondering what the hell just happened.
Lesson learned: Cobblestones render a Henry incapable of movement. She got about 30 meters down the road before she was forced to resort to a Frankenstein-like gait and politely request we take another road. Damn illio-psoas muscles.
Tomorrow we head to Rome. More to come. Stay tuned.
[tyson]
So here we are in Brussels and what a place it is.
When we stepped off the subway onto the street the first thing that came to both our minds was an overwhelming sense of being back in Africa. The heat, the people, the music, the chatter, and the subtle olfactory presence of trash that should have been removed sometime last week. It all felt like Africa. Between colonial Congo refugees and a growing East African diaspora our particular area of Brussels happens to be a very ethnically diverse area. Bonus for us. We like Africa.
I didn't check a calendar but I hope today was a Belgian holiday. We went wandering downtown and encountered the most focused shoppers and consumers heretofore known to mankind. They sped over rough terrain and yielded to the left despite the traffic rules of their country. They moved with purpose and destiny as they accumulated plastic bags of widely varying shapes and sizes. They stopped briefly to devour Shishi smoothies and smoke a cigarette before moving on to max out their credit limit. They left us agape in their wake holding our hotel-issued water bottles and wondering what the hell just happened.
Lesson learned: Cobblestones render a Henry incapable of movement. She got about 30 meters down the road before she was forced to resort to a Frankenstein-like gait and politely request we take another road. Damn illio-psoas muscles.
Tomorrow we head to Rome. More to come. Stay tuned.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Angry Brits and a Sweltering Cafe
[jordanna]
Last night we went back to the fan mile to watch the England vs. Portugal game. It was a gogeous sunny day and we weren't ready to lock ourselves inside a smokey bar just yet.
[Note: even outside there is so much smoke we have been snorting out black boogers for days. This and the fact that you have to pay to use bathrooms are the only downsides of the trip so far. Ty doesn't care about the bathrooms, but I have been fighting off a bladder infection and peeing CONSTANTLY. If I am not peeing, I am most likely thinking about peeing. Moving on...]
Last night was much more of a county fair kind of feel with people casually milling around; a marked change from the intensity of the Germany game. We actually found a seat, and settled into what seemed like a good section. We were in the middle of a small crowd of England supporters, which started out fun, with people yelling and cheering for their team. Then, when things started to turn for the worse (Rooney got a red card) the evil football fans started to surface. I completely understand getting mad at a bad ref (US vs Italy game for example), but there is a point when you cross the line from supporting your team to being a belligerent prick. They were making up songs about how all Portugese are bastard assholes, and would start screaming "Fuck you, you fucking bastards" whenever the Portugese fans cheered. To be fair, there were only three or so of these pricks, and one of the women travelling with them looked at Tyson halfway through the game and said, "It's embarassing sometimes". It just struck me how different the feel was between the two games we saw there. The crowd for Germany, which had to be 8 times as big, was awesome. Everyone was there for one purpose, but no one seemed rabid. In a much smaller (you know, only 100,000 people), more intimate crowd the feel was so negative. That feel, and the fact that a bottle of water cost 5.25$, made us leave before the second game. Turns out France still kicks but and the local 'American' restaurant is full of much more relaxed people.
Randomly, somebody started screaming obscenities outside our hotel this morning around 5 am and didn't stop for a good half an hour. Tyson swears it was Angry Brit number one, who had a very distinctive and grating voice. It honestly wouldn't surprise me: his first comment after Rooney got carded was, "I am going to get fucking arrested tonight", right before he kicked beer all over my legs and spit on my head in his screaming frenzy. Ahhh...... football.
Anyway, it is all a unique cultural experience. Turns out Germans don't do anything retail related until 2 pm on Sundays so we are sweltering away in the internet cafe waiting to go to the airport. We will make one last stop on our way out, for Tyson to ge a last brat and beer and me to get my last currywurst (a divine creation of chopped sausage, curry powder, special sauce and ketchup). It has been a hell of a trip, and we couldn't have asked for more when we planned our trip to Europe for the World Cup.
[jordanna]
Last night we went back to the fan mile to watch the England vs. Portugal game. It was a gogeous sunny day and we weren't ready to lock ourselves inside a smokey bar just yet.
[Note: even outside there is so much smoke we have been snorting out black boogers for days. This and the fact that you have to pay to use bathrooms are the only downsides of the trip so far. Ty doesn't care about the bathrooms, but I have been fighting off a bladder infection and peeing CONSTANTLY. If I am not peeing, I am most likely thinking about peeing. Moving on...]
Last night was much more of a county fair kind of feel with people casually milling around; a marked change from the intensity of the Germany game. We actually found a seat, and settled into what seemed like a good section. We were in the middle of a small crowd of England supporters, which started out fun, with people yelling and cheering for their team. Then, when things started to turn for the worse (Rooney got a red card) the evil football fans started to surface. I completely understand getting mad at a bad ref (US vs Italy game for example), but there is a point when you cross the line from supporting your team to being a belligerent prick. They were making up songs about how all Portugese are bastard assholes, and would start screaming "Fuck you, you fucking bastards" whenever the Portugese fans cheered. To be fair, there were only three or so of these pricks, and one of the women travelling with them looked at Tyson halfway through the game and said, "It's embarassing sometimes". It just struck me how different the feel was between the two games we saw there. The crowd for Germany, which had to be 8 times as big, was awesome. Everyone was there for one purpose, but no one seemed rabid. In a much smaller (you know, only 100,000 people), more intimate crowd the feel was so negative. That feel, and the fact that a bottle of water cost 5.25$, made us leave before the second game. Turns out France still kicks but and the local 'American' restaurant is full of much more relaxed people.
Randomly, somebody started screaming obscenities outside our hotel this morning around 5 am and didn't stop for a good half an hour. Tyson swears it was Angry Brit number one, who had a very distinctive and grating voice. It honestly wouldn't surprise me: his first comment after Rooney got carded was, "I am going to get fucking arrested tonight", right before he kicked beer all over my legs and spit on my head in his screaming frenzy. Ahhh...... football.
Anyway, it is all a unique cultural experience. Turns out Germans don't do anything retail related until 2 pm on Sundays so we are sweltering away in the internet cafe waiting to go to the airport. We will make one last stop on our way out, for Tyson to ge a last brat and beer and me to get my last currywurst (a divine creation of chopped sausage, curry powder, special sauce and ketchup). It has been a hell of a trip, and we couldn't have asked for more when we planned our trip to Europe for the World Cup.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
A Human Mile and a 60 ft Pink Inflatible Bunny
A direct quote from this article at The Times online. And they were NOT kidding. It was crazy.
The party extends from the Brandenburg Gate all the way to the Victory Column. That area has a lot crazy German history and it was amazing to see such a happy nationalistic-yet-inviting crowd gathered there.
There were around 800,000 people gathered to watch the game on big screens and it was just one huge German party. To my wife's credit she reveled in the experience despite the amazing concentration of crowds, noise, smoke, and drunken idiocy. Three things she generally avoids. :)
This was certainly one of the things that we had in the back of our minds when we planned on being in Berlin for the World Cup but I can't honestly say that I expected it to be quite what it was. The press of humanity as everyone held arms during the penalty kicks. The grim, tight lips after Argentina scored. The hugs I got afterward because I was wearing a Klose shirt (he scored the equalizer in the 80th minute). The fights. The songs. The weird feeling of smiling and grinning through the German national anthem because we don't know the words.
Americans certainly love their sports but there's no ONE sport. If you took the fan base from Football, Basketball, Hockey, and Baseball and rolled them all into one, and then made it the national team you might have something close. Maybe. It was amazing.
Anyway, the pics to come later include: the topless painted chicks, JD and her new friend, Sor drinks a beer, and the video of the equalizer goal. Stay tuned.
We head out for Brussells tomorrow to find the birthplace of Jean Claude VanDamme and compare their fries with those of the Mews in Wakefield. England beats the pus out of Portugal tonight (sorry Mom, cage pashtoda) and France upsets Brazil. That's my story and I'm sticking with it.
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