Bulgaria III

Gosh, can they cook in Bulgaria! From the moment we arrived until the moment we left, we were fed like every 3-4 hours. Always with a starter with lotsa small dishes, then a main course and often a dessert too. And everything was delicious!

Which is proven by that we got some sent with us coming home, and my English friend ate it! Even though the Brits have nothing to be proud of foodwise, they seem to loooove their white bread tasting of nothing (they call it toast) and their pies and puddings, equally tasteless.

If I ever go back to Bulgaria (and yes I will...for the wedding...more on that later) I won't go hungry. On the contrary, a diet beforehand would be recommended.

What you see on the pic is a tasting competition of the best baclava (sweet dessert). Not as I thought force-feeding (was left alone with the parents one afternoon and was terrified they were gonna push a tube down my throat - joke).

Bulgaria II

In Bulgaria there are loads of cats and dogs without any owner. And even if they do have owners they are sometimes left on their own for a long time.

In the house I was staying there was one cat, informally called the President since he ruled the house. Curling up outside in the cold were the neighbours cats, left all alone. Except for when I was out there having a smoke, cuddling them.

The dad in the house tried to show me how manly he was by scaring the cats away from the terrace with a broom, only to go around the corner and feed same cats when he thought nobody saw. Sweet!

Bulgaria I

Can see from the hits on the blog that some of you are eagerly waiting for updates from Bulgaria :).

Ok, here goes.

The infrastructure is...how can I put it...not there. Ok, so there are roads but not very good ones. Less commonly used streets and roads are simply not maintained and have lots of holes in them. It's a bumpy ride in Bulgaria.

Similarly houses are a strange mix of mostly very ill-maintained ditto and some new ones.

I was lucky since we stayed with Bro's gf's family, and they are well off, at least with Bulgarian standard. And the water only disappeared once!

Who in their right mind likes to travel?

When people are asked what they would do if they had money an alarmingly high percentage answers travel. Why, oh why I ask. First you have to be there like 1,5 hours before. Even if you have checked in online 24 hours beforehand. Queueing to drop the bags. It's exactly like in the old days when you were queueing to check-in. Then you queue for passport control. After that you queue once again for security check (had to take off my "airbag" because "you can have anything in there" - I wished at this point that I at least had a joint in there!). Then queue for boarding, only to be seated in a chair that is half the size of a normal one. But luckily you are served a meal, that not even a dog would eat if hungry. If you, just like us, are having a stop-over all of this is repeated. Somebody tell me why anybody wants to endure this! PS. It was so much better before 9.11 when I had a gold card and was swishing thru the airport in a whiff, not to talk about the good old days when you could smoke in the back of the plane!

Merry Christmas II

Christmas - the modern version. Was gonna post this 4 days ago, but due to a certain lack of infrastructure didn't work. Now back home in Switzerland, where EVERYTHING works. So good to be home.

Hair

Oh, gotta tell you before logging off. Went to the hairdresser today and spent half an arm (ok, the bad one but still) on highlights, cut and dry. A curly dry. I all of a sudden had hair! Like hair that was nice. Light, fluffy and wavy. A new experience. Think the last time I went to have a cut was early spring or something. Half-way thru the cut hairdresser asked "it's uneven in the back, want me to fix it?". Yes please. Not sure I'm gonna let friend do it again. And then Skype goes down! Been down all evening. And I had planned to skype all friends incl video, letting them see my new me. Darn! Nothing ever turns out like you planned.

Merry Christmas!

Water?

It's closing in. Bro packed for me, and we have a pre-booked taxi tomorrow long long long before it gets light. Was informed that we'll be staying in a house next to the Black Sea, "unless the water goes". Hmmm. Delightful to be travelling to a country where it's a 50-50 risk there will be no water. Can't wait!

Metal device

On the x-ray today I saw a metal object. Turns out doc used some sorta metal clip to piece together my tendon. If I'm really lucky I'll get a body search going thru security on Thursday, but with my luck I'm just gonna get a lesbian feeling me up. Life as a cripple is tuff.

Intubation

When at the doc's today I asked for the medical records regarding my op. When scanning thru I discovered I was intubated during the procedure. Asked the doc why, and he said "because you would't be still". Haha. That's me. I could also read about me having a biceps. That's nice to know.

That's so not me - yet

Oh, and I learned tonight why a bingo wing is called just that. According to my friend, who is Welsh so if I were you I would take his story with a grain of salt (but since he promised to bring me Haggis I might have to be nice to him), it's a British thing. The old women who play bingo, crossing their numbers, then shouting "Bingo" raising their arm displaying fat wobbly skin under their arm. Charming. NOT!

Terminator

Next week I'm getting a robot. Went to see the doc today, and thanks for asking, I'm healing well. Not that my friends cared, they are more busy laughing about the cripple, thanks so much. So, yes, I'm getting some sort of apparatus that will move my arm to and fro. There was lotsa speculation tonight about what this thingie actually can provide in terms of moving me around. Have a feeling I'll be very disappointed!

Twisted sister

As being hired without pay to do some sort of travel coordination for the wedding next year, I have been given access to the website soon to be released. In there you can find information about the weddees (the two who are getting married in case you didn't get it), what they like and don't and so forth. Bro has chosen this song as his favourite. Not sure how I'm gonna interprete that.

Casanova

In 20 minutes today I read about a prostitution plan, which was commented on by the police spokesperson R. Casanova. HAHAHAHAHA!

What I'm bringing to Bulgaria

Weak spot

Friend knows I hate to travel, but when it comes to an invitation for cruising the Mediterranean Sea next summer I think I might have to be a woman and change my mind.

First name only

Learned a new thing the other day. Do you know a phone book that is sorted by first names only? Nah, didn't think so. Well, Iceland's phone book does. How weird is that? "In Iceland, directories such as the telephone directory are alphabetised by first name rather than surname." Think ze Swiss have a lot to learn in terms of using first names, instead of the formal "Sie".

Like a friggin Christmas card

Christmas cards

Let me tell you what I think of Christmas cards. NOT! If you cannot be arsed to keep in touch throughout the year, don't bother to send me a Christmas card. At least not on paper. Email I can just delete. I mean, if you are not in touch for a whole year, why bother sending a card? It means nothing. Unless you are Martin Luther King, and he's dead, words mean nothing, and actions mean everything. Agree?

It takes all sorts to make a world

Pimp

Not for the first time I today acted like an intermediate in other peoples love affairs. Happy to help people who cannot get a shag on their own accord. Today it backfired a bit though when one party meant to send me an update and instead, by mistake I can only assume, sent it to the other party. HAHAHAHAHA!

Christmas is acoming

Couldn't be arsed to wait. May need a bit of help with the decoration though.

Apero-time

Just because I'm one-armed doesn't stop me from having a party. On the contrary, it's great to have people over since I have a list of things to be done, such as changing the bed, ironing and putting up the Christmas tree. Stuff I currently cannot do myself. So turns out there are some advantages to being crippled.

Bingo wing

One of the many disadvantages of being one-armed is that the skin is starting to hang under my right arm. Only two weeks of inactivity has rendered me an old womans arm. Aaaarrrgggh! Bingo wing, I so do not like!

My own personal airbag

Realized I haven't showed you my "airbag". Big friggin thingie I have to wear 24/7, only allowed to take it off for showers and physiotherapy. The pic-taking for the blog I took upon myself to decide. Nothing mentioned in the instructions. Good thing Switzerland is behind on IT! Sleeping feels like a beetle on its back, trying to gain balance. Not to talk about the strain it puts on the other shoulder. Feels like in a car when the safety belt is cutting into the throat. That strangling feeling. Bet you all my belongings it was a man who invented this thing.

Inflamed vein

Met with a couple of friends today, whereof one knew about my self-curing attempt. She of course couldn't keep her trap shut ("you cannot believe what Annika did, bla-bla-bla"), and all of a sudden I had like an insect buzzing in my ear, in both actually, like stereo, telling me to go see a doctor. Since I know they wouldn't shut up, ever, I went. Turned out to be an inflamed vein, stopping the blood coming through, making it feel like a tube. Doctor suggested that I didn't try any more self-curing (or cutting other people! why would I do that?), gave me a prescription for a gel and sent me on my way. So now my heart is safe from any sharp objects travelling around in my body. Good to know.

Self medication

Ever since I worked as a medical secretary extremely many moons ago I have had quite a low confidence in doctors.

Apart from them being good in partying, always bringing 80% booze, I have always thought that self-medicating is a good thing. After all, nobody knows my body better than I.

But trying to get that tube out of my hand tonight might not have been the best idea I ever had. Hurt like a MF and didn't accomplish the goal. Tube still in there, but now display two plasters after trying to open the vein myself with a razor.

A sight to see

Friend had birthday the other day and since we, her friends, think she is the most sorry excuse we've ever seen for a housewife we gave her an iron. Something she has never used in her life.

So being the friend I am I decided to give her a lesson. Obviously ironing my stuff.

Punctured heart?

When in hospital I had a needle stuck in my vein on the upper side of my hand, through which all sorts of goodies were flowing I'm sure. After having a sore hand now for 1,5 weeks it feels like there is a needle or some sort of tube left in there. Either I'm being paranoid, or I'm right. Probably should have it looked at before it travels up to my heart.

Rapunzel

Friend of mine had a chat with stupid person who thought the sun was revolving around the earth. Same friend had never heard of Rapunzel, apropos getting an unexpected visit through the balcony. "What was that about that punzel person?" Think that reading a book once in a while would't kill her.

Rudolf & Co

This was my evening, how was yours? Raclette, a serious talk, and Rudolf.

Light show

Just outside my window.

Vomit

Went into town today with a friend to do some Christmas shopping (aggghhhh, Bulgaria is closing in!). First we had a sandwich and a coffee, and coming back a couple of hours later I started to feel funny. Were on the way to Denner, and just outside I went "wait a minute, I don't feel so good". Then promptly vomited. A lot. Wasn't time to move to a more appropriate place like the lawn. Straight on the asphalt. Charming. Fortunately friend is nurse, so had no problem. She was feeding me napkins. Still have no idea why, but guess it was something iffy in the sandwich. Felt fine the rest of the day. It's really amazing how the body tells you what is good and bad. Just would be nice if it could give me a bit of a warning!

Forever young

I dunno why but every so often I get cremes that are supposed to make me look younger from so called friends. What they haven't got is that I don't give a shit.

I'm me, and it's a package deal. You don't like what you see? Take a hike. My personality is what it is. I'm not about to change it. Too late, and I'm not interested.

I like myself, and if you don't, your problem.

But I'm sure the cremes will look nice being displayed on my bathroom counter!

Spoiled bitch

Yes, got home tonight after the physio and dinner was served.

Pain level

Pain ain't no fun, and since the op (and a loooong time before I managed to get to the doc) it has been up and down. Yesterday for some reason was the worst since the op, apart from the night after. Painkillers were my best friend. But since I had promised a friend to go out in the evening, I did. Took it really easy with the wine in the beginning of the evening (there is a first for everything!), since I wasn't sure of the mix of pills and alco. Pills were only paracetamol and unfortunately no morphine or other goodies, so blended fine with wine. Felt better and better the more wine I drank (how unusual!) and was worried I was gonna wake up feeling like shite. The opposite happened. Ok, so didn't jump out of bed, which btw never happened in my life, but felt fabulous. Almost pain free. And much more mobile. Could even apply mascara with my right hand, leaning down with my head. Doing this with my left has almost rendered me blind, sticking the brush straight into my eye. Lotsa progress in just a week.

Physio

You know when you meet somebody and it clicks immediately. Ok, so this woman is a professional physiotherapist and part of her job is to make us cripples feel comfy, but still. She was very nice.

And it took her about a minute to figure out that I'm impatient. "You're the type we have to stop". From doing too many things too fast she meant. She should't worry, it is in my interest to get well.

She was asking if I live alone. When I said yes she looked troubled. She needn't be. I have friends who almost get offended when I don't ask enough for help. Haven't been food shopping in a week, and yet I get fed on a daily basis.

Seriously thinking of keeping my "airbag" even after I have healed. Useful little thingie.

So the only thing I'm allowed to do is to stretch my underarm. I am encouraged to do this at home. When I see the doc in two weeks I will look like Popeye. At least on one side.

Santa Claus is coming into town

Fresh air

It was also very nice to get out of the house today. First time since the op. So nice I had to stop by my second living room for a drink. Doing this experiment you see, what is best against pain, pills or alcohol? Conclusion is that it's a helluva lot more fun with alco. Taking a chance that the doc, who I showed my blog to today, cannot be arsed to actually read it. Mind you, he never mentioned anything about not drinking wine. Not that I asked ;).

One step forward

Went to see the doc today. He took one look at me and told me I'm wearing the arm stabilization thingie, my new "handbag", all wrong. He also told me that I should wear clothes that open in the front and don't have to be pulled over my head. Thing was I had adjusted my bag in order to get a sweater and my fab jacket underneath it. Apparently I screwed up. Other than that my wounds are healing nicely, and I can now start seeing a physiotherapist twice a week. And I'm allowed to fly to Bulgaria over Christmas. Darn! But Bro may have to give me half his seat to fit my "bag" in. A little sacrifice won't hurt him. Progress people.

Almost as cute as me

We are soooo alike. I also try out at least three outfits before I go out. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

My name is Bond

Unfortunately 50% of this handsome couple didn't want to appear on the blog incl faces. On their way to a Bond party in the metropolitan Zürich.

Cripple No 2

A so called friend showed up tonight, saying "hi cripple No 2". I am very upset that I am not referred to as cripple No 1, but nevertheless allowed her in. Mainly because she is making a fabulous lasagna.

I am so gonna keep this arm stabilization thingie, if it means I can sit in my bar looking at people cooking for me and waiting on me!

Sentimentality

Ha! I knew it!

Throughout the years I have gone through my wardrobe and given away many, many clothes. However, there are some items I haven't managed to bin for sentimental reasons. And whaddayaknow. Now this sleeveless jacket will come to very good use!

Have to get out of the house on Monday to see the doctor, and cannot get my other jacket on.

Good thing I saved this one for more than 20 years!!

Operation XII

Coming home was fantastic! Bro thought I was exaggerating, since I had only been gone a day and a half, but getting out of that place smelling of sick was delightful. A shower, fresh clothes (top with a zipped up front - only thing I can get on really) and my own bed. Collapsed yesterday at 19.30 completely exhausted and had a quite good nights sleep. However, I have to keep that mega-big thingie supporting my arm on also at night, which means sleeping on my back or half on the side. Will take some time getting used to. If you feel like it, make an experiment. Tape your right arm (applies to right-handed people obviously) to your body. Then try to shower cleaning your left armpit with your left hand, or try to put body lotion on your left arm using your left hand. If I don't learn to wipe myself properly at the toilet, I will end up smelling like demented lady in the hospital. Combing hair and applying mascara with the left will take some training. For the next 4-6 weeks I will need to eat food that doesn't need to be cut, using only a fork. That soup they served in the hospital ended up on my gown. Not to talk about blogging. It's taken me 3 hours to write those operation items. Life as a leftie ain't easy.

Operation XI

Smoking in a hospital is a bit of an ordeal. Didn't stop me though. But wheeling around that drip thingie means you cannot wear a jacket, so clad in pyjamas, wearing hospital slippers I had to manoeuvre myself to the balcony. Freezing I tell you. But there you meet fellow patients where you can compare notes about conditions, operating procedures and other fun stuff.

Operation X

I managed to be having my op the same day Zürich had its first snowstorm this year. Despite that two of my friends showed up to visit. Much appreciated, as well as all the phone calls and sms's from people who care. Even my brother showed up the next day to drive me home, after I sweet-talked the unwilling doc to let me go. Had gotten help to wash (even downstairs with the help from a nurse, very undignified!) since I was still attached to drips and whatsit. Dressed in my own clothes I was assuring the doc I was fit as a fiddle. "Hmm" he said. "Do you promise to follow my orders?", i.e. never take off the thingie supporting my arm. "Yes of course!". And apart from having a much needed shower yesterday I have.

Operation IX

Lying in hospital ain't no picnic. Friggin hell, there is never a moments rest. There is food served, it'a the cleaning lady, it's the physiotherapist (for my neighbour), the doc stopping by, the drugs being distributed, the nurses checking blood pressure and temp every 2 hours, bandages being replaced. It never stops. It's exhausting! Having a general health insurance like I do means to share a room. I was squeezed in between an Italian/Swiss woman my age (very nice except she snored when lying on her back) - benign thyroid tumor - and a semi-demented old woman - broken hip - who had trouble holding her urine and was mumbling in her sleep, as well as farting and burping regularly. Delightful. NOT. There is about one meter in between the beds, so you get to know your neighbours much better than you would like. I managed to sleep about 4,5 hours, even though the pain was excruciating. At four in the morning I had to ask for more pain relief, and was given a shot in the thigh. Helped fuck all, but was afraid to ask for more since I wanted the doc to send me home the next day. No way was I staying in that hell-hole another night!

Operation VIII

Remember waking up by somebody screaming in my face, and after that everything went very quickly.

An hour later I had been wheeled up to the surgical unit and was served lunch. Not only did it taste quite bad, but I managed to spill all over myself. Not easy to eat with the left hand, being right-handed!

Operation VII

Gosh, am I glad I was asleep. Look at that screw sticking out of my arm!!

Operation VI

I'm glad they covered me up, since I wasn't looking my best!

Operation V

Nicely embedded in green. They kept on asking me which arm it was, which I found very unassuring until I realized it was a safety precaution. And yes, they operated on the right arm.

Operation IV

Stuff they used. Looks nice and sterilized to me.

Operation III

I have no idea what they gave me in order to sleep during the op, but I seem to have had a really good time!

Operation II

After that a tall guy appeared. Turned out to be the anesthesiologist, who I had a nice conversation with. He explained the various alternatives to me, and we agreed on a full anaesthesia for the arm, stretching from the fingertips to the shoulder incl side of throat and ear.

He explained that if I coughed before full sensibility was back my diaphragm wouldn't work. And of course I had to test after the op. Funny feeling that was. Came out like a wheeze.

Also agreed that he would sedate me lightly, so that I would be a little asleep. I know that the operating doc wanted that, since he said to me "I don't mind you talking, but I mind you moving during the procedure". Haha, he would definitely have minded me talking.

Anesthesiologist concluded by saying "Now I told you everything I know". Me: "Really. I thought you were a doctor". He laughed and said "Do you have any questions?". Me: "No". Him: "Good. Since I couldn't have answered them anyway". Haha. Funny guy.

Operation I

After reporting to the hospital at the crack of dawn I was whisked into the prep area, where I was assigned a cell-like room. No 15. There I was told to strip, and dress in net underwear (much MUCH unsexier than it sounds!) and a gown open in the back. Remember Jack Nicholson in that movie? A nurse appeared ("Hi, I'm your nurse for today. What do you expect from me today?"). Hmm, was kinda expecting her to know. Maybe she had watched one too many American movies? Then she checked my blood pressure, oxygen level and temperature in order to assure I was alive before the operation I assume. Think she also gave me a pill of some kind. Remember feeling really relaxed.