A touch...

So this morning I had to go get a blood test. The process of getting there was pretty horrific. We live in an old apartment building without an elevator so I had to descend 3 flights of stairs. Thank God for hand rails. We got in a cab. Another world of pain. We then made it to the outpatient facility but unfortunately you have to descend another flight of stairs to get to the entrance. And no handrails. But there was this gadget to get wheelchairs up and down the anti-handicapped barrier. I used it and felt really sad for doing so. Inside they took me right away. I went with a nice middle aged nurse and she must of seen that I was in pretty bad shape. Here's the magic. She took my hand and stroked her fingers lightly against it for quite awhile. It felt so good. Another angel I'm sure.

Haitian Birthday Party

Zoe's friend Gamy and her older sister stopped by earlier this week to invite her to Gamy's birthday party. Gamy lives up stairs, is about to be 10 and and she and her family are from Haiti.

Zoe heads upstairs at the appointed hour. We hear an army of kids all having a great time. "Who let the dog out! Woof, woof, woof, woof!" seemed to be a favorite tune.

Anne Rose, Gamy's mom, showed up later to see why we weren't there. We thought it was a kids only party which apparently it wasn't so Benedicte accompanied Anne Rose back to the party. Me, I guarded the couch. Which what I've been doing mostly since I got back from the sterile slammer.

An hour or so passed and Benedicte and Zoe returned with platters of Haitian goodies. Dirty Rice, roast Pork, plantain fritters, macaroni and cheese, guava cake, spicey meat turnovers... in short, Caribbean heaven.

I love Caribbean cooking. I love black cooking. It's like it's made by angels. Black angels who kiss you on both cheeks, hug you and laugh like there is no tomorrow.

El Reyes

Traditionally in Spain it is not Santa Claus that brings kids presents it is the 3 Kings. Catalunya has Tio Caga but that is an entirely different matter having to do with happy children beating a log until he poops candy... I am not kidding. Anyway I digress... of course now kids in Spain get the full magilla of gift opportunities; Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning, but the big one is the 6th of January, the day after Epiphany.

Here's the deal, all over Spain, from the tiniest hamlet to the biggest cities the three kings arrive and are then paraded through town. In addition to looking noble and in general "king like" they also machine gun tons of rock hard candies into the surrounding throngs. Eyes are put out, fights ensue and in general a good time is had by all. After the participants return from various emergency rooms and first aid stations the children open a window and then put out a bowl of water and a plate of bread for the thirsty and hungry camels who are carrying the three kings. The next morning of course the water and the bread has dissappeared and gifts from the kings have appeared under the tree (or log if you live in Catalunya).

So of course Zoe did her bit for tradition and was rewarded with a fairly slutty "Baby Bratz" doll (I'm gonna have a word with the kings next year); some dance slippers, tights and tutu and a personal electron microscope from geeky old Baltazar.

OK when I was a kid I was up at 6 nagging my parents to get up so the festivities could ensue. Now it's me that is up at 6 nagging my wife and kid to get up. Funny how things never really change.

Another round of viva Espanya...

Tonight I got a house call from Dr. Jordi. Dr. Jordi is a doctor for Spain's amazing national health system. Thanks to Benedicte's hard work in addition to our health insurance I have been assigned a doctor from the national health system. He's a lovely guy with a family, completely unassuming an very proud of the health care in Spain. I mean he made a house call!!! He entertained my daughter with stories of the arrival of the three kings answered my and Benedicte's questions and then left to visit a little boy with a high fever.

Obviously spending taxes on education, transportation and health care just works out better than invading countries, short changing old people and letting black people drown.

I fell in love with Spain 15 years ago. The love affair is still going strong.

Back Home

I am back home. I was released yesterday afternoon. First another round of kudos to the hospital, the staff and the doctors. it would not be possible to have been more compassionate and thorough.

So while I was having my stitches out Benedicte went to meet with the rhumatologist. Shudder, hack, oooh boy. We're talking years of ingesting rat poison, bi-weekly blood tests and horror of horrors no booze for FOUR YEARS!!! Man, all because I ate camel?!

Zoe and Benedicte and I hopped in a cab. The driver was a nice middle aged woman. She was playing this chat show on the radio very loudly. Then she changed the station. This James Blunt song came on. I think it's called "You're Beautiful." The sun had just set. We descended down Balmes, past the tony charcuteries and bakeries. From upscale Sarria to middle class Eixample. People getting back from the 3 hour Spanish lunch. It seemed like a movie. I felt humble and lucky and apprehensive of the future. I felt alive. My girls were with me and we were heading home.

New Years Eve at Dexeus

OK so I'm still here in Room 219. It's been 12 days. I know every doctor, nurse, cleaning lady and orderly on every shift. There is my main man Antonio... great guy, always calls me caballero and I return the complment by calling him meastro. He keeps wanting to give me a bath and I keep resisting. Maybe I shouldn't and add it to the list of new experiencias. There is Jaunita and Juan the night nurses, very sweet. If any body can give you your 6am injection and make you almost look forward to it is those 2. There is Ester and Neus (which means snow in Catalan) the afternoon ladies. Doctor wise we have Dr. Robert the day to day internist who really has called every shot perfectly; Dr. Gaspar my man's man lecherous GP; nice Dr. Heuget the rhumatologist who I feel will be seeing until he retires; Dr. Vidaller the high powered immunologist and the weekend guys.

OK Telefonica sucks but I'm here to tell you that Spain gets the important things right. The care I've been given here has been amazing. If I was in the US it would have been a few pills and then out the door. Here I can't get them to release me! And it's all done with such a human, informal but professional touch. Yep Spaniards are amazing. Viva Espanya! Viva Catalunya! Viva Pais Vasco! Heck even Viva Extremadura! And like 8 people live there but I bet they are swell.

So last night Benedicte and Zoe and my downstairs neighbor Alfredo and his 5 year old Sergi showed up with Cava, really great ham, olives, a yule log from Paul the fancy french bakery and most importantly chips and salsa!!! It was kind of a tough day for me and my gamy leg but having a New Years Eve party sure helped.

Everybody has been so nice and supportive. My parents call twice a day. People stop by at all hours and hang out and bring books and videos and contraband goodies. Not to get all weepy but I feel really fortunate to have such nice people in my life. Wow, am I lucky.

Fiesta in the Hospital Room

So as I sit here in my room in the Hospital Dexeus waiting to see if my leg will need to be removed 4 adultos and 2 ninos are hanging out eating Panetone and listening to Cuban music. If one has to have an amputation this is the best way to do it. I am not serious about the amputation but this sucker does occasionally hurt like the blazes. Damn gamy leg! What, what!