The Times They are A-Changin'

Still slightly grumpy and frustrated from yesterday's events, I awoke to what promised to be a new day. The first thing I noticed was that something had happened that hasn't happened for weeks: the sun showed its face and showed no signs of wanting to hide out behind the clouds again. Not fully convinced, I decided against wearing my new bermudas. (I spend a few hours a day at the mall and, to show for it, I have six new pairs of socks, a new pair of bermuda shorts, and a fridge full of yogurt, apples and deli meats- to help me survive the "nuclear attack.")
I did decide to trade in my full-length jeans for a pair of capris, though. With my jacket and raincoat packed in my bag, just in case, I turned the tv to the news to watch as I ate my breakfast.
I have to admit that if it weren't for the empty supermarkets and gas stations, or for my proximity to the fishing sector, that right now I would be oblivious to what was happening around me.
Today, though, was a day for change.
Just when they were on the verge of completely paralyzing the entire country, the majority of the truck drivers on strike decided to sign a pact with the government and to end the strike. (All I could think was "good luck in trying to collect whatever you signed for".) As you can probably guess, I doubt that they will ever see the promised benefits, whatever they might be, but, in this case, maybe I'm wrong. (They can blackmail the government into paying up because they have the power to completely shut down the country, if needed). The fisherman have waited more than 2 years to collect on the promised government help from their last strike- which, as it was, was too little, too late (nowhere near what France or Italy has done to help, which is what was asked for).
I'm stocked up on gas, food and water- so I was ready to wait it out longer, hoping to at least see this government, who always seems to be taking, but never seems to be giving, squirm a little bit. Unfortunately, though, despite what is said on the news, they probably just did what they did with the fisherman to end the strike: bully them into stopping the strike by threatening to fine boats and take away fishing licenses, but then showing on the tv that there was a happy, peaceful settlement- something that couldn't be further from reality.
Despite the claim that things are returning to normal, Mercadona was still pretty empty when I went to go buy more batteries for the walkie talkies.
The return to normality will probably be a slow process.
Anyways, in the morning when we went to go see Mauri, he was a bit happier. As soon as the doctor arrived, he had put Mauri's fan on for him. Mauri was sitting in the chair with the fan blowing on his neck, and since there were no cleaning sessions today, he was much more awake and happy. Unfortunately, though, during our visit, they had to take some of his blood for analysis, a process that turned into a 20+ minute ordeal. Of course, I was thinking- they have all day to do these things, but they wait until my visit so that I can't talk to him.
So, I was slightly frustrated, but happy to see that Mauri felt better than usual, when I went to go eat lunch.
The 6:30 visit seemed like it was going to be more of the same. I arrived, and started to talk to Mauri over the walkie talkies from the waiting room. Then, Mauri told me in a nervous voice that they were going to do something to him that would take a couple of minutes, and that then I would be able to go back and see him.
In my mind, I was frustrated- why is it that they always wait until it's my turn to see him to do everything that they need to do?
Then, I heard my name being called. (I was thinking nervously- now what!?!?! What have i done now???) So, I nervously went to the side door, and was handed a surgery cap and gown. I couldn't believe it- they were going to, after two weeks of only seeing him far away through a window, let me see him and actually touch him.
Of course, the visit was the best of all visits since I've been there. A few minutes after entering, Pepita also came in, but after awhile, she stepped out again to give us a bit of privacy. The visit was interrupted by the arrival of an ambulance with a new burn victim, but I was too happy to care. They wheeled Mauri back into the ICU, and I went home much calmer and happier than I've been in several weeks.
It's going to be hard to go back to seeing him behind the window today, but at least yesterday's visit gave us the push we needed to keep moving forward. It came when we needed it, when we were once again nearing the peak of frustration.