When we were in Belgium, there was a funny commercial. It was for cookies (biscuits) and the chefs were saying wis a franch accent - how zey mek de biscuits and how zey are perfect. The weather on the other hand (picture of storms), sorry about zey weader. For some reason, it struck us funny and "sorry about zey weader" stuck in our vernacular.
So the last six weeks or so here, we'll have these gloriously warm afternoons of 70F even 80F with cool mornings. Then just for mixing things up we'd have one or two days of very chilly rain - say a high of 55F. Everyone has said this fall is unusual and it's been too warm, but we don't know the difference, right?
So first I had stopped up ears. I got them cleaned out at a the only doctors office around that I knew of. He cleaned them out with a caulk gun shaped object, water out of hot pot on the floor and water out of the faucet. Yikes! When all the water didn't come out of one ear, he crammed paper towels down there with tweezers. Not what I'm accustomed to, but in the end I could hear.
Shortly hereafter my next medical journey began. I got a raging ear infection. I suffered through an incredibly painful weekend and went to the same doctor's office on Monday. No they couldn't take me. Next stop the emergency room. A first for me ever. But it was more like walk-in urgent care, just all in Spanish. After a Spanish lady doctor confirmed my intense pain through probing, I got prescriptions for pain, swelling, and antiibioticos. The antibiotics were slow to work and while the pain left, I still couldn't hear properly. (Try learning Spanish from the fog of pain pills and not being able to hear out of one side of your head, a real treat.)
As the antibiotics ran out, I came down with a head cold that the missionaries are passing around. Our bosses here wanted to check around about my ear situation. Turns out the doctor I went to is a quack and the pharmacist was horrified I went to him. Great. So they found a new ear doctor and took me in. I still had infection in both ears. Nunca, nunca, nunca, agua in tus oidos. Never, never, never water in your ears. Which is what my old doctor at home always said. I got ear drops for three times a day. What about my swollen tonsils I try to ask? Oh, it's the weather, drink more fluids.
That weekend I lose my voice and feel like I have razor blades in place of tonsils. Of course like any good hypochondriac I'm sure I'm dying. I'm going to end up in the emergency room again and they're going to tell me it's the weather. I had to go by the rental office for our apartment, I can barely make myself heard. They say, what else? Oh, it's the weather. Amazingly, Monday my throat started to feel better and I realized I would indeed live.
A few days later, the rental lady brought our heaters. Perhaps it was my froggy voice that made her recall that we don't have heat in our apartment or perhaps it was the imminent weather change I didn't know was coming but the heaters were a welcome sight. Two electric radiators that if you stand near them you can feel them emanating a little heat. Better than nothing! Now we know what all the doors are on the living room and kitchen. Trap that waft of heat.
Now that I'm on the mend, the weather seems to have turned permanently cool. I'm wishing for more of my sweaters and bigger heaters, but I'm happy to feel better. I'm bummed I missed out on enjoying the nice days while I was so sick, but that's life...sorry about zey weader.