Thanks... but ewwww!

           Okay, so I got a call from the doctor today. Yay! She wanted to talk in person. This tends to be a good idea when you have limited knowledge of a language. So off to the 'urgencia' I went.
           I thought she had more information on my neurology appointment. Maybe she even had the name of the neurologist I would be seeing. At the very least, the neurology department phone numbers. Something to that effect. No. Wrong again.
           I know it's shocking that I was wrong. I am usually so right about everything! Heh, heh. When I arrived, however she was right there smiling. Unfortunately, I ended up waiting because as per usual my special brand of luck has continued on in Spain! An emergency arrived right behind me. Poor sod, there was no reason he had to have problems because I have bad luck. Sorry dude.
          After a short wait, the doctor came out to me in the waiting area. She sat down and told me that she had a niece with epilepsy and the first thing she thought when she woke up was, 'Kimberly!' Huh, imagine that?! Know that this conversation is spoken oddly. She speaks in very small bits of English. I speak in almost all Spanish. Somehow, this works.
          Then she got to the point. She called me to tell me she had an idea to help me in case of emergency. Since she knows I'm having problems getting a neurology appointment and am changing the timetable of my medications based on an educated guess. I am just hoping for the best until I can see a neurologist. How liberating... right! Right.
          She wanted to offer me the equivalent of Valium. I have had it prescribed before to break a cycle of seizures (what was supposed to be taken in 5 days lasted me 5 years). For me, it's horrible stuff. I just feel tired, bored and disinterested in everything. That is a crappy feeling if you ask me. You don't have to, I'm just sayin'. Back then I had an hour to an hour and a half of warning before a seizure. It was possible for me to use it as a quick fix (my term for it, probably not something a doctor would appreciate), back then. Now, by the time it is obvious I am going to have a seizure, I am completely out of my mind, doing weird things and NOT making good decisions. I told her that most likely I wouldn't think to take it.
           She told me about her niece again (a kid) and she keeps it just in case. She has only had to use it once, but she has it, and it makes everyone feel safer. Then it occurred to me, that if my boyfriend and his family knew exactly where it was they could force it on me.
          Having said that, the scenarios I get in my head of that happening are quite...... interesting to say the least. Funny really, in the way that only someone who knows that, it is what it is, accepts it, and is aware that you have to keep the humour to survive, knows funny to be. Maybe ridiculous is a better word.
          What makes it even funnier (or ridiculous) is what I found out next. It comes in the form of a stick, which you crack open (this is point that I start picturing one of the greenish glow sticks... nice, right!). After you crack it.... wait for it.... you put it in your butt. Yeah, that's what I said. So now the images that are floating in my head are completely insane. Seriously? How am I going to do that if my mind isn't even working right.
          Now is when I remember the conclusion I had come to earlier. It will really have to be my boyfriend or his family or friends that will have to give me the meds. But NOW  there is a whole new level  to the meds they would possibly be giving me. What if it's not my boyfriend (he's seen my hairy arse), but his family. Jeez. How many people do I tell this to? How do I approach them with this information? "Hi, at some point you might have to stick Valium up my butt, here's how you will know when it's necessary...." Ughhhh.
         My boyfriend doesn't think this is funny. I know he is right, it's not actually funny. In reality. However, if I intend to remain a rational person for the rest of my life, things like this need to be laughed at and taken with a grain of salt. It just is what it is. Hopefully, I will never have to use it. That would be the best scenario. If I do, I am glad I won't really be aware of what is going on. However I am already sorry for whomever has to be 'the one' to come to my rescue. That's probably the most polite way to put it. It sucks to be that person. Butt meds or not.
          So that was my day so far, I've not even had lunch or my siesta yet. What more will the day bring? We shall see. Let's hope for something less repulsive and more acceptably funny.

          I would like, however to respectfully thank my doctor. I was not only impressed with her dedication (calling me on a Saturday). She had no responsibility to call me at all. She also was extremely patient and good at trying to work with our language barrier. And the best part, as hokey as it sounds (but I am a big, sentimental sap at heart) was she couldn't stop herself from reaching out and giving me a hug before I left.

kimbersfrog

Thanks for your Support....

                This is probably going to be an anomaly for me. I am going to write a bit about the conversation I just had with my boyfriend. NO, not the details or the mushy bits, I just think the heart of the conversation needs to be observed. 
                Today, other than being a wee bit pessimistic in the morning, I had a pretty good day. Rainy mornings can bring out pessimism in anyone who is going to hang their laundry out to dry. Lucky for me, the day brightened up, my laundry dried, and I got to have Spanish conversations all over the place. That might be a mild exaggeration, but I did converse with more than just my boyfriend's family, which is a good step. I took some video of the kids (nieces and nephews) and went home.
               Once inside, I started to work on some verb conjugations, which oddly is comforting to me. I know, it's weird, but I have learned to just enjoy the calm. This evening the calm, the comfort, they were escaping me. All I could think about was the woman I talked to in the store. She like me was a customer, but unlike other customer run-ins I've had, we actually conversed. Oh, yeah.... and I understood her! What's more, she understood me. Right, I know. You think I'm making it all up. Think it if you want, but at least I will always have that chat.
               I am glad to always be able to have that conversation. Surprisingly it had a delayed side-effect. Who knew? This little chat that had made me so happy in the store, was not just deflating me later, but I was in danger of being drowned by it. I kept thinking, 'She understood me, that was clear.' But the most important part to me, created the question that was haunting me. 'Did she understand what I meant with the right connotation?' And that, my friends, is what started to mess with my mind.
              If I didn't care about nuance, details, or love language then I probably would have absolutely no issue right now. Unfortunately, I find language absolutely fascinating. I happen to think that if you can find the word or combination of words that give your thoughts or description or action the exact meaning, you can create magic. There are so many wonderful words. If you choose one word over another that means virtually the same thing, the word you choose can make or break your description depending on it's connotation. These nuances exist whether we have language or not to express them. And I am admittedly spoiled in having a large vocabulary in my native language with which to express myself. Now I find myself at a loss.
              The most ridiculous part is my Spanish is rapidly improving. This particular conversation, that took me by surprise (never does that bode well for my conversational skills) should have been a mood lifter. Period. All I could think about once I got home was, I don't know all the connotations in Castellano. I need to know them to properly express myself. No one will really know me until I can really truly say what I mean, connotations and all.
             Later when my boyfriend called, I told him about it. I almost didn't because I wanted to make sure he knew, I was not regretting anything. It's just something I know I am going to go through here and there, but I might need some support at times. He is the perfect person to talk to about this. Although he didn't move to a country that didn't speak his native tongue for the same reasons, he still did it. When he first moved from Spain, it was to Britain. He had no English, other than 'Hi' ,'hello', maybe one or two other words. So in short he had nothing to go on. Tonight I needed his support as my boyfriend, but I also needed his support as my friend.
             Do you know what? He came through. He didn't hand me bull and tell me, 'Oh, you will know it by tomorrow.' He did however, kindly point out that I had only been here for two months. And reminded me of some of his trials in communication whilst learning English. He let me talk about it as long as I needed to, and then we went on to other things.

           My point being, sometimes when someone has really done well by you. It needs to be pointed out. Thanks babe.
kimbersfrog