Well, last night Mauri was feeling pretty low. After the doctor had told him that they might do more skin grafts with the only intact skin left of his body, really, he was pretty upset. He said that he was starting to see things getting better, but if they end up having to do the grafts, that he will be moving backwards again in the way of progressing towards healing. Of course, from the beginning, they told us that he would need to have his legs (the skin donor sites) wrapped up for two weeks. Tomorrow (Wednesday) will mark the two week point since the first surgery- meaning that he would have his right leg unwrapped soon, if they weren't going to take more skin from it.
His left leg, which had been peeled from top to bottom, is what is most painful for Mauri. Apart from that, the bandages that cover the lower leg, also cover part of his foot, and he says that they prevent him from being able to stand, because he has no strength in that leg.
From what the doctors had been telling us up until now, things have sounded positive. Mauri, however, had heard the nurses talking amongst themselves and saying that his back is really burnt- and that it looks white (not a good sign)...
So, he doesn't feel confident about tomorrow.
What I'm most worried about is that if he wakes up to see his lower right leg wrapped up, that he's going to fall into depression. He's already sick of being there, and is constantly affected by the heat, his fever, the constant flow of meds into his system...
On a different note:
I was happy to arrive and see that the work shift had changed, and that the wicked witch of the west was no longer anywhere in sight. That also meant that I was going to get lucky and be able to see Mauri in person. They let me stay waaaaaay past the end of visiting time, and let me do something that I'm supposed to keep secret (OK I got to feed him- so that meant staying past dinner- Noone say anything so that they don't get in trouble for being nice) in the interest of lifting Mauri's spirits because they also said he seemed to be feeling low. (Why do you look so serious today?)
It seems that in the evening, I usually coincide with a few nurses that are very, very nice.
The problem, in trying to judge the people that are taking care of Mauri, is that I can rarely talk to anyone. I usually end up talking to the people at the front desk, two of which feel the need to be on a power trip. Inside, other than for the incident with the nurse that put the speaker/microphone contraption on Mauri's wound and left, I haven't really seen anyone inside that seemed truly evil. There were two that we have thought have "bad milk," but one of them retired last week, and the other, little by little, is starting to warm up to Mauri. (That doesn't mean that she's super nice to him, but she's improving).
Anyways, I felt the need to clarify that since they have started to get to know Mauri, most are now quite friendly to both him and to me.
My overall negative impression of everyone was based upon the fact that the first few days, the people who always give me problems, were the ones that were around. Add to it the lack of information, the inability to talk to anyone behind the window, the not-knowing, and the seeing a few things that shouldn't happen, and the anger of not being able to see Mauri (with no logical reason for it from my standpoint)- well, you understand.
Don't get me wrong, there are still 2 or 3 people that I hate (and they can still make my life miserable), but now I can see over all of that and notice that some people there are actually quite kind (and can really help me out).
Anyways, hopefully today things will go well.
My aunt, Carmen, will be there again (she had to go anyways for a blood analysis)- and Mauri's dad is supposedly going on the bus with me- though I don't exactly understand why. So, it should be an interesting day.
lunes, 16 de junio de 2008
No news is good news
Well, up until today, things were going quite well. On Saturday, I came in the morning with Mauri's mom, dad, brother, and our little niece, Noa. The visit was pretty uneventful. Mauri complained that his back hurt more than usual and that he was frustrated because he couldn't move his arms as much as he could before the last curing/cleaning session. Partly, this has to do with the fact that the bandages were put on more tightly than before, though.
After lunch, everyone went home and I stayed behind for the evening visit. I was happy to see that they were going to let Mauri out to see me in person. While I was waiting for them to get him ready, the doctor came out and talked to me. He said that Mauri was doing quite well. I told him about the pain that Mauri felt, but the doctor assured me that that was a good sign. If he didn't feel any pain, then they would be worried.
Anyways, the visit went well, and I went home exhausted- much too tired to write.
Yesterday, I came to Valencia by myself. Mauri's mom was going to take care of my niece, so I decided to call my aunt Carmen to come and keep me company. In the end, both Roberto and Carmen came, and we went to see Mauri for the morning visit. The doctors had changed the bandages on his back that morning, so he was still sore, but, despite that, he really looked better than ever. They had taken the bandages off Mauri's face, and it really looked quite good. Now, on his head, he only has a bandage on his right ear.
Other than the complaint about the rest of the bandages being too tight, Mauri was doing well. They had told him that they would adjust the bandages on Tuesday.
After lunch with Roberto and Carmen, I saw them off to their taxi, and I went to see Mauri again.
Once again lucky, they asked me if I was alone. Since I was, they told me that I could go in, and that they would bring Mauri out into the room so that I could see him in person again. I had to cut the visit a little short because the bus schedule is different on Sundays, but overall it was a good visit, and Mauri looks to be doing pretty well.
Then- came today. For the first time I'm writing from a (rather expensive- so I'll look for a new one tomorrow) place with internet nearby the hospital. Last night, I was once again too tired to write, and when I woke up in the morning, it was almost time for me to leave. Anyways, the morning visit started out OK, but when I was called out right away, I got to see that my favorite person was at the desk. I hadn't seen her since I told her off over a week ago (Friday)- and I suddenly knew why I had been kicked out so early today (she loves to do what she can to make you as miserable as possible).
I wanted to speak with a doctor- not only to ask how things had gone over the weekend with the curing session, etc., but also to find out when I should come tomorrow morning. Of course, Miss not-so-helpful told me that the doctors were in surgery.
--Do you know when they'll be done?
--No- I can't go in there while they're in surgery. (I didn't expect you to, stupid. Nor did I ask you to)
--Have they been there long?
--Since this morning
--So, I'm assuming that they'll be out soon (2:45 afternoon now already)- can I wait and talk to them.
--You can wait if you want. (with a look that says, but you'll be bothering me if you do)
As, in the evening, noone that has to do with Mauri's case is usually around, I decided to stay. After about a half an hour, my favorite woman tells me:
--The doctors have left- I didn't notice. (Of course you didn't, @$%$@$- I knew from the beginning that you were going to try to make things as bad for me as possible.)
--So, will I be able to speak to someone at night?
--You can try- and try to talk to whoever is on call. (who will be someone who usually works with kids and doesn't even have a clue as to who your husband is.) I just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't keep waiting. (How very kind of you)
So, now I'm very frustrated again. Yes, I believe she does these things on purpose, and then tries to pretend she's helping you out when she's really trying as hard as she can to make things go badly for you.
Now, I'm even regretting having left because I wouldn't put it past her to tell me that they had left when they really hadn't.
Anyways, Mauri had told me that tomorrow, he will be under general anesthesia. They will do the deep scraping of his back, and if they feel they need to do grafting, then they will do it with the only skin Mauri has left- the skin from his lower right leg.
Mauri, of course, was frustrated by that news. That's the other reason that I wanted to talk to the doctor. To make things worse, they don't have him scheduled as the earliest surgery- he's schedule for 11:30. What does that mean? Well, he can't eat or drink all night, he won't be able to eat or drink all morning, and then he won't be able to eat or drink until 6 hours after the surgery have passed!!
So, the longer they put him off, the more miserable his day ends up being, and the less likely it is that he will be able to sleep the following night.
This evening, I can expect the witch (mole and all, that goes with her bad hair tint job) to be there. So, I'm not expecting to be able to see Mauri in person, nor do I expect to be able to be there the full hour. Lastly, I doubt I will be able to talk to a doctor- not even the one who knows nothing.
argh!!!!
I'll let you know if I'm wrong tomorrow.
After lunch, everyone went home and I stayed behind for the evening visit. I was happy to see that they were going to let Mauri out to see me in person. While I was waiting for them to get him ready, the doctor came out and talked to me. He said that Mauri was doing quite well. I told him about the pain that Mauri felt, but the doctor assured me that that was a good sign. If he didn't feel any pain, then they would be worried.
Anyways, the visit went well, and I went home exhausted- much too tired to write.
Yesterday, I came to Valencia by myself. Mauri's mom was going to take care of my niece, so I decided to call my aunt Carmen to come and keep me company. In the end, both Roberto and Carmen came, and we went to see Mauri for the morning visit. The doctors had changed the bandages on his back that morning, so he was still sore, but, despite that, he really looked better than ever. They had taken the bandages off Mauri's face, and it really looked quite good. Now, on his head, he only has a bandage on his right ear.
Other than the complaint about the rest of the bandages being too tight, Mauri was doing well. They had told him that they would adjust the bandages on Tuesday.
After lunch with Roberto and Carmen, I saw them off to their taxi, and I went to see Mauri again.
Once again lucky, they asked me if I was alone. Since I was, they told me that I could go in, and that they would bring Mauri out into the room so that I could see him in person again. I had to cut the visit a little short because the bus schedule is different on Sundays, but overall it was a good visit, and Mauri looks to be doing pretty well.
Then- came today. For the first time I'm writing from a (rather expensive- so I'll look for a new one tomorrow) place with internet nearby the hospital. Last night, I was once again too tired to write, and when I woke up in the morning, it was almost time for me to leave. Anyways, the morning visit started out OK, but when I was called out right away, I got to see that my favorite person was at the desk. I hadn't seen her since I told her off over a week ago (Friday)- and I suddenly knew why I had been kicked out so early today (she loves to do what she can to make you as miserable as possible).
I wanted to speak with a doctor- not only to ask how things had gone over the weekend with the curing session, etc., but also to find out when I should come tomorrow morning. Of course, Miss not-so-helpful told me that the doctors were in surgery.
--Do you know when they'll be done?
--No- I can't go in there while they're in surgery. (I didn't expect you to, stupid. Nor did I ask you to)
--Have they been there long?
--Since this morning
--So, I'm assuming that they'll be out soon (2:45 afternoon now already)- can I wait and talk to them.
--You can wait if you want. (with a look that says, but you'll be bothering me if you do)
As, in the evening, noone that has to do with Mauri's case is usually around, I decided to stay. After about a half an hour, my favorite woman tells me:
--The doctors have left- I didn't notice. (Of course you didn't, @$%$@$- I knew from the beginning that you were going to try to make things as bad for me as possible.)
--So, will I be able to speak to someone at night?
--You can try- and try to talk to whoever is on call. (who will be someone who usually works with kids and doesn't even have a clue as to who your husband is.) I just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't keep waiting. (How very kind of you)
So, now I'm very frustrated again. Yes, I believe she does these things on purpose, and then tries to pretend she's helping you out when she's really trying as hard as she can to make things go badly for you.
Now, I'm even regretting having left because I wouldn't put it past her to tell me that they had left when they really hadn't.
Anyways, Mauri had told me that tomorrow, he will be under general anesthesia. They will do the deep scraping of his back, and if they feel they need to do grafting, then they will do it with the only skin Mauri has left- the skin from his lower right leg.
Mauri, of course, was frustrated by that news. That's the other reason that I wanted to talk to the doctor. To make things worse, they don't have him scheduled as the earliest surgery- he's schedule for 11:30. What does that mean? Well, he can't eat or drink all night, he won't be able to eat or drink all morning, and then he won't be able to eat or drink until 6 hours after the surgery have passed!!
So, the longer they put him off, the more miserable his day ends up being, and the less likely it is that he will be able to sleep the following night.
This evening, I can expect the witch (mole and all, that goes with her bad hair tint job) to be there. So, I'm not expecting to be able to see Mauri in person, nor do I expect to be able to be there the full hour. Lastly, I doubt I will be able to talk to a doctor- not even the one who knows nothing.
argh!!!!
I'll let you know if I'm wrong tomorrow.
sábado, 14 de junio de 2008
Friday the 13th
Other than Mauri's normal bad reaction to the cleaning sessions- this Friday the 13th was pretty uneventful. The good thing about the cleaning sessions, though, is that they give us the opportunity to speak with the doctor.
Today's news was pretty good.
During the session, they removed most of the staples from the grafts from Mauri's left arm. The doctor said that the grafts look very good. Since four days have already passed, that is a very good sign. Both arms are doing quite well, and the legs are on their way to recovery. The main concern is still how the healing on Mauri's back and sides will progress. The doctor did say that the areas seem to be epithelializing well, but that they will have a better idea of if they will have to operate or not when they do a deeper scraping of those areas next Tuesday. He said that Mauri is also doing quite well with movement, and that they will start to do more rehabilitation exercises to make the new skin more pliable. On Sunday they will do a less invasive cleaning session of just his back to make sure the area stays clean and continues to heal well.
If we are lucky, they will let us see Mauri again today (Saturday).
Today's news was pretty good.
During the session, they removed most of the staples from the grafts from Mauri's left arm. The doctor said that the grafts look very good. Since four days have already passed, that is a very good sign. Both arms are doing quite well, and the legs are on their way to recovery. The main concern is still how the healing on Mauri's back and sides will progress. The doctor did say that the areas seem to be epithelializing well, but that they will have a better idea of if they will have to operate or not when they do a deeper scraping of those areas next Tuesday. He said that Mauri is also doing quite well with movement, and that they will start to do more rehabilitation exercises to make the new skin more pliable. On Sunday they will do a less invasive cleaning session of just his back to make sure the area stays clean and continues to heal well.
If we are lucky, they will let us see Mauri again today (Saturday).
jueves, 12 de junio de 2008
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.
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.
miércoles, 11 de junio de 2008
Things are starting to heat up
Yes, things are starting to heat up in what seems to be every sense possible. "Hace más frío ahora que en enero" said the woman next to me waiting for the bus this morning. Amazingly, she's probably right. Every day I travel to Valencia armed with a jacket, a raincoat and full-length jeans- something usually unheard of this time of year here. With some luck, though, it seems that the sun may decide to show its face tomorrow.
Unfortunately, not all rising temperatures are quite so welcome. For the last few days, Mauri has complained about not being able to sleep because of the heat in his room. Apart from the fact that he normally gets hot quite easily, a number of factors are contributing to that. First of all, his burns throw off the body's ability to regulate body temperature as usual. He has been constantly feverish, and the numerous blood transfusions also make him feel hotter. Combining all of these factors with the fact that he's been, around the clock, in a bed that floats him on a current of 37ºC air (99ºF), make the heat feel unbearable to him to the point of him not being able to sleep at night.
Anyways, the hospital doesn't allow for the entrance of fans, but after talking to Mauri's doctor, Dr. Herrero- one of the only people who seems to show the slightest empathy, we worked out a compromise: we could bring Mauri a fan without fan blades (one that works by air propulsion). So, we bought one.
So, this morning, Mauri was already frustrated. The morning cleaning session was just as painful as ever, despite having been told that each time would be less harsh. The treatment and moving of him was just as brutal as ever. By the end of our visit, though, his spirits were raised by the promise of the fan.
During our visit, a couple of doctors also went to talk to him to show him some exercises that he can start to do to help make the new skin more flexible. He was also told that he'll be able to sit and stand and walk a few steps soon.
We also had the opportunity to talk to Dr. Herrero, who told us that the grafting areas looked good, and that the regeneration of his back also seems to be advancing favorably. He told us that they would do another cleaning session on Friday, which he compared to scrubbing dishes, and that next week they would do a bit deeper cleaning there to try to stimulate further regrowth. With some luck, it is still possible that they will not have to do grafting in those areas.
So, we left the clinic, ate lunch, and then went to buy Mauri his fan. Of course, when we brought it to the clinic, we were once again met by opposition. No matter what I bring him, whether it be a fan or a toothbrush, seems to bother whoever is there to receive it. Heaven forbid that they have to walk the 10 meters to his bed to bring it to him there. The fan, though, seemed to provoke an even stronger reaction.
--No, this can't come in here.
--but we talked with the doctor, maintenance, and those in charge, and bought what we were told was acceptable.
--Well, then, we'll let them plug it in tomorrow because I don't have a written order to allow it.
(OK- up to this point, I can understand the conversation, but the next question seemed to provoke real hatred and anger- an exaggerated response).
--Can't you ask the doctor about it, so that he can sleep with it on?
--No, the doctor is probably busy in the ER. Look, I clean Mauri, I sit him down, I treat him well. If you push me, though, I will treat him badly. Do you want me to treat him badly???
("yo le trato bien, pero si me aprietas, lo trataré mal. ¿Quieres que le trate mal?)
I don't think anyone said anything to provoke this type of threat. Mauri is defenseless all bandaged up, and can't do much by himself. We can't go in there to help him, so we are also helpless. It is frightening, then, that he is being cared for by someone who threatens to treat him badly, and who thinks he's doing us a huge favor by just barely doing his job.
Unfortunately, though, here you just have to "suck it up" and put up with any bad treatment given you. The patient really doesn't have any rights- especially not if he can't defend himself.
To worsen the situation, Mauri had asked to go to the restroom before we arrived at the waiting room at 6PM. They told him that they were bringing someone else first, and that then they would bring him. When we went in at 6:30, though, he still hadn't gone, but didn't push the matter because we were there. He was sitting in a chair and was also quite uncomfortable and tired and wanted to go back to the bed. No one was anywhere to be found until 7:30 sharp when we were told that we had to leave (7:30 sharp, and not a second later: someone also has to treat us badly now- since we don't have enough to deal with as is). So we told the man out front about how Mauri wanted to go to bed and to the bathroom. We were told that he was fine where he was sitting down and that he'd have to wait because a helicopter was coming with a serious burn victim. (A one and a half hour wait isn't enough for having to go to the bathroom, I guess. Who knows, now, when someone can get to him.) He's in intensive care to supposedly have more people around, and get better care, but there are many times when not even one person is around. Mauri has no way to call anyone for help- not that they would anyways. Up until now, the only way to get help was if another less serious patient heard him screaming and got up and left the ICU to look for help. (No, I'm not kidding!!) Unfortunately, though, now he's by himself in the ICU. So, what it comes down to is that they won't let us in to help him, but they won't help him either.
Yes, things are heating up everywhere.
Who was the patient in the helicopter that kept Mauri from having anyone in the ICU to provide him with even the most basic care? A victim of the "peaceful" truckers strike: a trucker whose truck was set on fire with him in it. Lest you think I exaggerate things, I took pictures of the meat section of Mercadona. You'll see that there is little left other than containers of egg yolks and trays of animal fat. These pictures were taken on Tuesday, only a day after the strike began. Since then, there is no fuel left for cars in Denia, and there is very little fresh food left anywhere. I would have taken a picture of the empty produce section and the emptying water/drink section, but I was scolded for taking pictures inside the store.
As much as I'm worried about how the strike will affect our visits, I can only think that I hope they hold out until they actually have a settlement in hand. The fishermen are still awaiting the money that was promised to them in their strike 2 and a half years ago!!!
Who knows, if someone can get the government to take notice, maybe the fishermen will benefit. I'm not holding my breath, though.
oops!!!
I bought an ipod for Mauri yesterday, and in trying to configure the computer to be able to download things for him to watch, I accidentally disabled my internet connection.
I tried to fix it last night, but finally needed to get some sleep. I was just able to fix it now, but I have to leave in 5 minutes and I'm not ready yet.
So, I'll update when I get home...
I tried to fix it last night, but finally needed to get some sleep. I was just able to fix it now, but I have to leave in 5 minutes and I'm not ready yet.
So, I'll update when I get home...
lunes, 9 de junio de 2008
Rain keeps falling on the Spanish Riviera
Unusual for this time of year, The constant rain and cold temperatures still haven't left the Levante region of Spain. Truthfully, the weather isn't the only thing with a bleak outlook here. Last night I spent a half an hour in the pouring rain to fill up my car's gas tank for fear that soon there will be none. Despite the government's promises to lower excessive taxes on fuel for various sectors, their inability to follow through has caused these sectors to go on strike, causing mass hysteria throughout the country.
The truck drivers, fishermen and farmers are the most affected, and fisherman and truck drivers are now on strike to attract the government's attention, in reminder of the unfulfilled promises. (Being the wife of a fisherman, I know for a fact that the government didn't fulfill the promises made to the fishermen after the last strike, even though the media would have you think otherwise. Fishermen are still awaiting the promised funds and help that hasn't come.) While the country can survive without fresh fish, a truck strike means that soon the supermarkets will be out of food, gas stations will be out of gas (when I went, one type of diesel had already been used up, and there was only a bit left of the other type at a few of the pumps). People are stocking up on food and gas as if they were expecting a nuclear attack.
Anyways, I was a bit nervous that this would affect the buses, and that I would have a hard time traveling to Valencia, but luckily I arrived on time and without any problems. We entered the hospital a little before 1:30, awaiting news from Mauri's doctor, but Mauri was still in surgery. After a small wait (in which time the workers went out for two smoking breaks in their scrubs- and went right back into the ICU in the same clothes without any new protection), at about 2:30, the doctor finally came out, and said that the operation had gone well. They finished the grafting on Mauri's left arm using the remaining skin from the back of Mauri's left thigh. Since he had no remaining skin on either thigh, they also removed skin from his left calf. I asked about the area on the right side of his body, where they originally had wanted to graft skin, but it seems that they are going to wait to see if it will regenerate skin on its own now. So, it seems that they have no plans for any more grafting surgeries if all goes well. The doctor also said that the grafted areas of his right arm looked good, and that in about 3 weeks, he'll be able to remove the bandages and let the grafts start to heal uncovered.
We weren't able to see Mauri then, but went back to see him at 6:30. After the surgery, he is unable to use his hands as much as before (both hands have grafted skin and tight bandages), so we couldn't use the walkie talkies. Our visit ended up being a screaming session- to try to communicate through the hospital phone system that doesn't work. Mauri was as sore and upset as he usually is after a curing session, and was even more frustrated about the fact that they still hadn't given him anything to drink (because of the surgery, he hadn't drunk water since midnight the night before) and also about us not being able to communicate well.
As tomorrow they will most likely leave him alone, he should be a lot more comfortable, and in a lot better mood: that's assuming that it is still possible to travel to Valencia tomorrow.
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)
