SAUL TO THE RESCUE, AGAIN !

Since I had recently been to the beach, on Sunday I decided to do laundry and mop the floors.  First I started the laundry.  Half way through mopping, I decided to take a break (it only takes about twenty minutes for the floors to dry here).  I took a beer up to the deck and checked on the washing.  It had stopped at "spin".  I tried to get it going again, but nothing worked.  Then I decided that it must be my fault.

I had  tried to do a large load of two beach towels, two large bath towels, several hand towels and a weeks underwear (all white).  I pulled several large sopping towels out and tried again.  NO!  It would not spin, so I started the whole cycle over again (minus a few large towels).  The same thing happened.  When it got to spin and it's supposed to lock the lid, it stopped.  I gave up and tried to remove the towels and wring them out.  This is not easy to do with beach towels without dropping them on the floor.  The laundry is on the deck which is hosed down, but not mopped and is always dirty.   I was unable to wring out much water.  I threw them in the dryer anyway.  It took five hours to dry it all in several batches.  Of course, I was also afraid of drowning the dryer and thus ruining it too.

  .

Monday morning I called my trusted Saul.  He said he would be there in one hour.  I told him to make it two hours as I was off to my Spanish class.  An hour after he was due, I called again.  He said he was in his shop and would be there in a "few minutes"  One more hour passed.  You just must accept this as part of the Mexican culture.  Saul has saved me so much money, I cannot get mad at him.  I put the machine on the spin cycle and showed him that it does not spin. He unplugged it and holding on to the wire and touching the copper pipe, plugged it back in.

Well, I thought this was the dumbest thing I had ever seen (well, maybe not The Dumbest, since I live in Mexico).  He then wanted to start the whole cycle over again.  I screamed for it would take at least 30 minutes and the machine would fill with water which we might not be able to get out. So to shorten the time, I switched to Lavado Express.   He said he was going to get a taco and would be back in 20 minutes.  Two hours later he showed up (must have been a very large taco ) and the machine had completed its cycle.  I was sure that Lavado Express, must skip the second rinse and spin, so we started it over on the normal cycle.  We had a beer (or two).  Sure enough it finished the cycle.

I was amazed, but Saul calmly said that he had done this before.  The problem is that none of the plugs are grounded and all appliances have a "tarjeta"  We had to look that up in the dictionary and it turns out to be a computer card.  At that point I told him that "when he had time"  I wanted all my plugs grounded.  He said he could, but all I had to do was to hold on to the plug and a copper pipe.  I told him I would rather pay for the rewiring.

Maybe the overloaded machine shorted out.  But why didn't the circuit breaker go off.  Or do we even have circuit breakers here?  You never get to the bottom of anything in Mexico.  You just accept everything for what it is (or does) here, and be very thankful for a Saul.



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"NO GRACIAS"

If there are two words you must know to live in Mexico, it is "No Gracias".  Poverty is everywhere for Mexico is a very poor country.  There is a growing middle class (unlike in the United States) but it is mainly around the industrial towns like Mexico City, Gudalajara and Monterrey.   Mexicans are very poor, but most of them are very hard working honest people (just trying to survive and feed their families).   I read somewhere that Mexicans work the longest hours per week of any industrialized country (but that assumes that Mexico IS an industrialized country).   There are a few who (maybe because of poverty) try to scam the tourist.

On the streets and on the beach, they try to sell you everything from fish on a stick to jewelry, to sex.  In Mexico sex is regarded pretty much as a commodity to be sold just like tacos.  Being an aging male I am constantly being asked if I want a "massage",  Some are men and some are women.  But beware for a lot of the prostitutes here are really transsexuals (and some of them are just gorgeous).  There are legitimate masseurs, but they are in the minority.  There are dozens of "strip clubs" in Puerto Vallarta where you will find total nudity.  I was happy and surprised to learn that the "dancers" must have an HIV test every three months to work in these clubs.  Some of you may be shocked and think this is all too depraved.  No! It is just sad.  These are young men and women who happened to be born beautiful, so they use the one gift God gave them in an attempt to escape the oppressive poverty into which they were born.

You have to steel yourself against the poverty.  Every other block there will be an old woman squatting on the sidewalk with her hand held out (actually she has a paper cup).  One such lady (I use the term loosely) always sits in front of an old mansion on Badillo.  She looks just like all the rest of them, but for all I know she may live in the mansion.  She also did not want her picture taken (maybe she was afraid someone would recognize her).   Also there are the obviously homeless and deranged.  There is no government service for the mentally ill (pretty much the same in the U.S, but the crazy people don't have guns here)  Most of them will just try to bum a cigarette or a few pesos (probably for cheap booze).  What I really hate are the poor young women who drags a gaggle of kids behind her (all under the age of 3 or 4) begging for money.  You want to throw a box at condoms at her.  The law here states that having sex with a male under the age of 18 will get you 30 years in prison.  By the time the girls are 18, they have had a couple of kids.   I must say that the children are adorable.  They are extremely well behaved in spite of their situation (or maybe because of it).  The kids are very good about watching out for and taking care of each other.  Of course they have to for their mothers work and many of them have no fathers.

I ignore all of them.  There are Mexicans that I really like who are hard working, but poor and I do what I can to help them (mainly with outrages tips, sometimes "loans").  If you walk down any of the streets frequented by tourist you will be accosted by the sales people of the various shops catering to tourist.  "Hey Amigo" they all shout and then try to lure you into their stores.  Walking through the flea market on the island in the middle of the Rio Cuale, is like working your way through a mine field as you keep repeating, "No Gracias".    You will also encounter the street vendors, but no where are they more aggressive than at the beach.

During the summer months, the vendors will out number the paying clients.   You can't imagine all they try to sell on the beach.  The beach I was at is a private club where a sign is posted at each end stating,  "No No Gracias"  But it does not stop them (nothing does),  What I really get a kick out of are the guys selling huge wool rugs.  They trudge down the beach with dozens of them thrown over their shoulders.  Lots of jewelry (who knows if it is silver or not, but it is shinny and pretty) but also clothing, pottery, other trinkets.  Of course lots of fish on a stick, but what really gets to me are the guys carrying trays of fresh oysters (yes that plate in the old man's hand is a plate of raw oysters).  No refrigeration or anything just a platter of raw oysters baking in the sun (some how I have managed to avoid this delicacy).  You can also buy lots of pot pipes, then they will try to sell you the pot or hash to go with them (maybe crack cocaine as well, I never sampled any of it),  I have also been told that some of them are actually undercover cops, but I highly doubt that.  Henna tattoos and massages are also popular (I assume no "happy endings" on the beach).  Some of the vendors quietly move on when you say, "No gracias"  but some are relentless and get almost angry when you try to ignore them.  There are always musicians roaming the beach playing for tips, but I was shocked to see a harp last week.

As an example of the hard working (and fearless) Mexicans, I included a photo of the painters working on the church across the street.  There they are, five stories above the sidewalk with no safety net.  They are standing on a platform hung from two holes in the top of the tower and is operated by a hand crank.   In truth, I wanted to show the remarkable transformation of this church.  The painting was done to show off the architectural detailing that was lost with the original white.  In the remodeling they also added a round stained glass window.  The first morning I noticed a huge hole in the front of the church I thought maybe their cannon had gone off and blew a hole through it.   In closing, I must restate that the great majority of Mexicans are very honest and very hard working.  They just do what they can to survive.

A COCKTAIL PARTY IN PUERTO VALLARTA

Nothing in Mexico is easy, this includes giving a cocktail party.  First I have several rules about what makes a good party (many have told me that mine are "the best").  First you should have twice as many guests as you have chairs.  This forces at least half the guests to mingle and talk to more people (otherwise some will sit in one chair all night and only speak to the person next to them).  In Mexico this causes a problem for about one third of the people invited will not show up. They never call, and usually never even mention it (as if the invitation never occurred).  We would consider this quite rude in the United States but in Mexico, it is of no importance.  The guest list itself may be the most important component.  You need a diverse group, yet one that is still compatible.  If you only invite a bunch of boring people, you will have a boring party.

Two, I try to make a point of always greeting every person as they walk in the door.  I make sure they have the drink of their choice and then try to steer then to someone they might want to talk to before moving away.  I always have a bartender and a helper, so I am free to move about and make sure everyone feels welcome and are having a good time.  Music is also important.  I like to start with something light and lively, then move to louder heavier stuff later.  One night at Apache's a saxophonist showed up.  He was fantastic.  He played blues and a lot of 30's and 40's songs.  I tried to speak to him to tell him I wanted him for a party.  He gave me a card.  Since he spoke no English I had a Mexican friend call him.  Both numbers were no good!  How Mexican !  But then someone noticed there was a face book symbol on the card.  The first two attempt brought no response.  I told the waiters and owner of Apache's to watch out for him and get a number.  The owner also loved his music and said she was sure he was quite poor and probably has no computer and maybe not even a phone.  She said she always tips him when he plays at her bar.  Then I spotted him again and my Mexican friend was there, so I had him explain to him what I wanted.  He agreed, but did not know what to charge.  The next day, my friend got a call from him and he wanted 6,000 pesos for four hours.  That is more than I pay for rent and I am sure more than he makes in a month wandering around bars and restaurants.  So no live music.

Then I got an email from a friend in the States who said he would love to attend my party.  He must have read it in my blog as we had not communicated for a year.  I told him I would be thrilled and he could stay with me and I would pick him up at the airport.  Then I got an email that his plane was to arrive at 4:00 the day of my party.  I told him that no way could I pick him up just hours before my party and perhaps he should check into the hotel he mentioned for the first few days.  He cancelled his trip.  I did invite more people from my bridge club.  This is tricky for I cannot invite everyone (and there are people there that I really do not like).  I tell them all to keep it quiet, but last year news leaked out so I was forced to invite more this year.   I also invited my Spanish tutor and told him that there would be a half dozen of his other students there.  He studied the invitation for a while and then said,  "But, will you be there?"   This has led to my questioning his comprehension of the English language.

I always try to make sure that I have plenty of booze.  Last year I ran out of gin and had to send my helper out to buy a new bottle (GIN !  who drinks gin?  It must be the Canadians),  I set out all the cheap booze and keep the good stuff underneath the counter.  The bartender is to only pour out the good stuff to people who ask, or if they are drinking it straight.  There is no need to put good vodka in a glass with coke.   I never make it a dinner, but have plenty of finger food so people don't get too drunk.  My coffee shop makes a great thin pizza that I have my helper pass around.  Then I bring out the Mexican food.  My favorite Mexican restaurant makes a huge platter of great tasting food for 250 pesos (can you believe that $20.00 will serve 30 people?)  Then I have nuts, dip, cheese and meat.  Lots of good food for nibbling.

Usually summer ends in mid October.  Last year it did not cool down until after the first week in November, so I scheduled my party for the second week of November.  But the heat and humidity continued and I worried about having so many people in my tiny apartment if it was still in the 90's. Then one day before my party it cooled down, the  night was lovely.  The day of my party was overcast but it did not look or feel like rain, so I was not that concerned.  Then just before the party was to begin, it started to sprinkle.  I quickly pulled the chairs I had carried up from the balcony under the cover of my cabana.  My music man arrived early, but had problems getting my internet feed up to the deck.  As I was still fiddling with that when others arrived.  Then the rain really started to  come down.  How could it rain on my parade??  Some people braved it upstairs anyway and sat under the cabana.  Had all 55 people I invited shown up. it would have been very crowded.  But at least a dozen or more failed to show.  Still there were enough people to keep me hopping all night. The one shot I took of the living room was early and after that I just forgot about photos.  (The guy with the muscles behind the bar is NOT me).  That is Filipe my favorite bartender and good friend.  The platter of Mexican food was only one of three.  There was plenty of food.

It never rains this late in the year (well not until I planned my party for November). Sure enough the following night was a beautiful clear, starlit night.  We even had a full moon above.  Why could not the storm have waited one more night?  But I have lived long enough to realize that not everything in life turns out exactly as you had hoped it would.

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NO LUZ !

Mexico can be a strange and trying place to live.  The Bible speaks of the patience of Job. I would bet be never lived in Mexico.  One Saturday morning I staggered to my coffee pot and pushed the red button.  By the time I had finished my morning banana the coffee was ready and I headed for the balcony. It was a beautiful clear sunny morning (but they all are here),   As I sat smoking and drinking my coffee I noticed our resident squirrel crossing the street on my electric wires, balancing with a swish of his tail.  I would later reflect back on this and wonder if it was an omen.

With my second cup of coffee I headed for my computer.  No internet (nothing too unusual here) so I turned on the TV.  NOTHING !  As I was uttering another curse at Telecable I noticed that there was also no power (I had not even noticed my second cup was not as hot as the first).  Sure enough the coffee pot was almost cool.  At first I thought I would stick it in the microwave, then at second thought that did not seem like a great idea.  Power goes on and off here periodically usually with no know reason.  I decided to check out the neighborhood.  As far as I could determine I was the only one without electricity.  I called my trusty Saul.  He said he would be over in 20 minutes (that of course is Mexican time).  Almost two hours later he arrived with his bucket of tools.  I just wanted him to call the electric company, but not he had to find out what was wrong so he took my meter apart.  After a few probes, he said, "No luz"   Well, yes that is exactly why I called him and now please call the electric company, while handing him my cell phone.  He said that "No" we had to use a land line (he did not explain why).

We went around the corner to his office.  Of course the wait is forever to get a live person.  In the meanwhile he explained that there was only one office to handle calls and it was in Mexico City and since it handed the entire country, it always took a long time.  Once he got a real person to speak to I handed him my previous electric bill, with the receipt stapled to it (not more than a week old)  After much communication I could not understand, and many "holds" and pauses, he hung up and explained that Aqucate 271 owed 2,535 pesos so they cut the wire.  But I am Aguacate 265 and I paid mine I screamed.  He just laughed and said maybe because all the electric meters were under the landlords name, they just shut them all off.  I went back around the corner and found that 271 was the fish taco stand.  After confronting them, they admitted that they did indeed owe money, but had paid half and thought that was enough (Obviously Not!)  But why do they still have electricity and I do not?  Well this caused them all to laugh (everything in Mexico is a joke to them)  I was not smiling.  They said they would pay it but because it was a Saturday, probably nothing could be done until Monday.  I could not live without electricity for three days.

I headed to the Sporting Goods Store owned by the Rizo family and where I pay my rent.  I wanted to talk to the lawyer, but he was not there.  Fortunately one guy spoke enough English to understand my problem and took my paid bill and went to the phone.  I thought he was calling the lawyer, but no he was calling the electric company.  He went through the same interminable wait and after hanging up said that it was a mistake and they would take care of it on Monday.  WHAT?

Just to further complicate my day (you notice I love to do that to myself), I had ordered a fumigation of my apartment.  I do not have cockroaches, rats or fleas, but I did have ants.  I had tolerated the tiny ones, but once the big red ones moved in I knew I had to do something.  The kid had been there the day before to give me a price. He said 350 pesos, I said 250 pesos and he said, "Okay" (that is just the way business is done here).  He was scheduled at 11:00 but I knew he would never show up on time, but just in case I had  told the fish taco guys to watch out for him and ask him to wait.  Sure enough he was there waiting for me.  I tried to explain the "No luz" but he said it did not matter as he drug up a huge tank of liquid.  He explained that he would move the furniture, but later put it back and clean the floors.  Once he started, I knew I had to get out of there.  He said it would take about one hour so I decided to go for breakfast.  I was starving by then.  I have a gas stove, but with electric starters and if the electric stater does not work, as a safety factor, the gas does not come on. (One of the few "safety factors" I know of in Mexico)

When I returned he was still spraying down the walls.  He was wearing a gas mask, so to me the smell was unbearable.  I paid him the 250 pesos (about $20.00) and told him to lock up when he left as I was going to the beach.  I also told him to leave all windows open.  As I was exiting my apartment, one of the fish taco guys stopped me and introduced me to a business looking woman.  She was an executive of the electric company and one of them happened to know she lived around the corner.  She said she would do what she could and asked for my telephone number.  I gladly gave her my card and thanked her.  Sure enough about 3 hours later my phone rang.  They were on the way.   The beach I go to is 14 blocks away, but I am too cheap to take a cab even in an emergency, but I did get there quickly.  They were waiting outside as if they needed to get inside.  Why I do not know for the problem was at the pole across the street.  Finally one guy crawled up into that maze of wires (I hate to admit it but it is easy to see how one might clip the wrong line).
It took quite a while for him to correct the matter (he is the one in the hard hat).  Voila! I had electricity again.  For another explained thing, they never did cut off the electricity at the Fish Taco place.   As soon as things calmed down (and I did too with a beer) I sat down at my computer to write this posting.  I felt it was just too good to pass up.  What I did not know was that the saga was not over.

No internet!  It was now almost 5:00 Saturday, I knew the the Telecable office would not answer, so I called the guy from Telecable who does moonlight work for my friend Ed.  He had failed to show the last time, but I was desperate (maybe I did not tip him enough the first time).  He said he was now home, but he would try to get someone.  Sunday was a loss, so Monday I called him again.  I think he said "one hour" but I had heard that before so I now called Telecable.  It does have a "press dos" for English, unfortunately it is rarely English that I can understand.  Some how I got through to her but she said that today was not possible, but maybe Tuesday morning.  Not trusting that, I called again on Tuesday.  She told me it would be Wednesday at the earliest.  I explained to her that this was my second call and after another ten minutes on hold, she said the technician would be there by 3:00.  I was afraid to leave the apartment so all the things I needed to do for my party would have to wait another day.  By 4:00 I called again and she said the technician was on his way (FROM WHERE?  Mexico City?)

   By now I had used all the minutes on my phone, but could not leave to buy more credit. Maybe that is why Saul wanted to use a land line.   Finally just before 5:00 he arrived.  I told him I was sure it was the modem that must have been fried by the power surge (although I have everything plugged into a large power surge box).  The lights on it kept going on and off.  He did several things on my computer then called his company and the next thing I knew he was climbing up the pole across the street; (he is the one in the white baseball cap).  He seems that the electric people somehow screwed up my internet line while fooling with their line.  I just prayed that when he came back down the pole that I would still have electricity.  But now I have both "luz" and internet, so I am able to write this.  And it only took four days !

I always try to think of the bright side.  It could have been worse, it could have been the day of my party.   I do think that living in Mexico may be a preventive for Alzheimer's disease.  Your wits are constantly challenged here.  Besides, where else could I get this kind of fodder for my blog?


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EL DIA DE LOS MUERTOS

The Day of the Dead in Mexico is really more than one day.  Officially it is November 1st and 2nd.  But it is really celebrated for almost a week, beginning with creating altars in their homes, churches and even the City Hall. There were about a dozen or more altars erected by each of the schools in town.   Of course our own Halloween is thrown in there and the kids do go "trick or treating" on October 31st.  Maybe in more exclusive areas they might go door to door, but here the kids will  haunt the restaurants and bars along the Malecon begging for candy by saying "Halloween".

Some are in costumes, some just want free candy, but they are all cute.  Nancy and I went to The Cheeky Monkey and along the Malecon to pass out candy.  We had dinner on the third floor and wound up tossing most of it to the crowds below. My camera is not good at night so there are no shots from the balcony, but the crowd scene was just below our balcony  There were thousand of people.  I have never seen so many before, they even had some floats and the pirate ship sailed down to set off fireworks.  At the main square there was a brass band in the gazebo with couples dancing around it.

The origin of the festival began as a pagan ritual to honor and remember the dead practiced by the Mayans and Aztecs. Then it ran for a the whole month of August also celebrating the end of the harvest.  The Spanish priests hated anything pagan, but cleverly changed the date to coincide with the Catholic All Souls and All Saints Days.  All cultures seem to have some form of it.  In Japan it is called Obon where they also do altars in the homes and then float candle lit lanterns down the rivers.  Of course skeletons and skulls here are most popular.  Today they make skulls out of sugar and decorated with icing, usually with the name of a deceased relative on it and then they eat it !  In the time of the Aztecs they used real skulls (I don't know if they tried to eat those or not).

Mexicans are obsessed with death, skulls and skeletons probably going back to their early pagan beliefs.  I once went to the Mexican Museum of Art in Long Beach and was struck with the fact that about half the paintings featured death, destruction and lots of skulls.  The most prominent figure for El Dia De Los Muertos is La Catrina.  She is a very elegantly dressed female skeleton with a large plumed hat.  She was supposed to have been originally created by a 19th century cartoonist who was trying to lambaste the very rich of Mexico.  You will see her everywhere and always with the large hat.

The official flower for the holiday (and it is a real Holiday, possibly the most celebrated in Mexico) is the marigold.  The orange color is supposed to attract the souls of the dead. You will find small potted marigolds all over town. I do not know if it is by design or not, but all the plants seem to die within a day or two.  No display or altar is complete without the half dead flowers.

It is not a day of mourning at all, but a celebration with lots of eating and drinking (everything in Mexico is a party).  It is to remember the dead by telling jokes about their lives.  The first day is for infants and children, called the Day of Angels.  The second day is when the souls of the adults are to appear.  Tradition says that if the living do not honor the dead, then they will come back to haunt them and wreck havoc with their lives.  Besides the sugar skulls, they make and eat a sugar and egg bread called Bread of the Dead.  Everyone thinks that corn is the staple of Mexico, but having lived here for three years I think it is sugar and salt.

Great care is taken of the cemeteries during this time.  All of them are carefully trimmed and cleaned, many graves are freshly painted, and the marigolds are everywhere.  I had to see it, but no one was sure how to get there.  My coffee lady told me the green Versaille bus and I followed her advice.  No problem I told the driver I wanted to go to El Panteon (which really means vault) and he indicated where I should get off.  As I walked up the street I could not believe the carnival atmosphere (not what you would associate with dead bodies).  There were at least one hundred vendors and stalls set up, selling food, drinks, flowers and trinkets (I guess for the dead).  Sure enough the cemetery looked wonderful with all the decorations and flowers.  You can tell some belonged to very rich families.  I am also told that it is full and will not take any more bodies. In Paris at the Pere La Chaise, they bury six to seven bodies on top of each other all in same small crypt.  Every culture has a few weird things about it.  Mexico is no exception.  If you are thinking about a trip to Mexico, I would highly recommend the end of October.

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PARROQUIA DE GUADALUPE

Although usually referred to as the Cathedral of Puerto Vallarta, La Parroquia de Guadalupe is a "parroquia" or parish, as it is not the seat of a Bishop.  No, I am not going crazy on churches.  One is just next to my home, but this one is probably the landmark of Puerto Vallarta.  Its tall spire with the crown can be seen all over the town.   So one day last week, my friend Nancy and I decided to take a little tour.  It is located just across the river off the Main Plaza.  Why it was stuck at the end of a tiny street and not on the plaza, or why the plaza wasn't built in front of it ? Well because it is Mexico !

The Virgin of Guadalupe is based on an apparition that appeared only before the lowly Indian peasant, Juan Diego.  She became the Patron Saint of Mexico.  How do you make a saint out of an apparition ?  You would have to ask the Catholic Church.  Supposedly this church was inspired by the famous Our Lady of Gudalupe in Mexico City.  The Festival of the Virgin occurs all over Mexico on the first twelve days of December.  The main procession starts along The Malecon near Woolworths (Yes, we do have a Woolworths with the same soda fountain lunch counter I remember as a child) and then proceeds to the church.  Actually the whole town participates with each school marching as well as many floats depicting the Virgin And Juan Diego. There are also native dancers in brilliant feathered costumes.  For twelve days the two streets by my home are impassable in the evening

The foundations were laid in 1903.  Later in 1917 it was decided to make it larger and the foundations were redone (not really usual for Mexico).  Construction began in earnest in the 20's but wars and other disputes stopped construction so it wasn't until the 40's that they started on the towers.  The famous crown of angels didn't go up until the mid 60's.  The crown was made of cast concrete, but an earthquake in 1995 destroyed it and a new metal one was designed.  I did the best I could to get a good photo of the twin towers plus the large one with the crown, but it is on this little side street.  The Main Square looks out across the bay through the also famous arches.  In the center is a gazebo (almost all plazas have a gazebo)  If you think you see Christmas decorations hanging there, you would be wrong.   They were left over from Independence day (always red, white and green).

The nave and altar piece are far more impressive than the simple one across the street from me.
Lots of carved (or plaster) statues and lots of gold leaf.  You may note the copy of the famous image of the Virgin brought to the Bishop by Juan Diego.  Because it was constructed over such a long period, each succeeding priest put their own stamp on it.  So some of it appears to be neoclassical, but the towers are more renaissance in style.  All in all it is quite beautiful.  Even a little side door has an ornate marble carved arch.

After our little tour, we walked a few blocks further down the Malecon to The Cheeky Monkey.
It is one of the oldest (and cheapest) watering holes along the Malecon.  Located on the second floor it has a wonderful view of the bay.  Two things I really liked are that they serve rolled up cold wash cloths (just like Japan) and the fact that beer and margaritas are only twelve pesos (less than one dollar).  It was a very pleasant charming day.  You should try it.


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HOSPITALS AND LIFE

Yes, I know, we were not going to discuss this again.  Well I changed my mind (I do that a lot)  You will not hear of my various medical problems, nor will I even tell you what the surgery was about.  I knew in July that I would have to return in September for surgery.

The date was set and I was delighted to find a very cheap airline ticket.  Then my doctor's nurse called to say that he could not do surgery that day, and would "October 7th work for me".  I was livid and told her it would not work for I had already booked my tickets.  A week or two later she emailed me again and said the surgery could be done on September 18th.  I could keep the arrival flight, but had to change the return flight (at a cost of $200.00).  I was still not pleased, but it did mean that I could have all the tests done in the U.S. saving me the cost of having them done here.

The first morning I was there, I went to the lab (they picked) and gave four tubes of blood for various tests.  Then I saw the surgeon (I did not like him then, and I still do not).  My regular doctor was out of town for the month and no longer does surgery.  He then sent me for more tests (an EKG, and a chest Xray).  Of course I passed all of them beautifully (so much for my smoking and drinking).  However, one week later the nurse called again to ask if I had the tests done.  I assured her that I had, but for some reason they had not forwarded the results.  She did finally get them.  No explanation of why it took a week.

I had lived in the Laguna Beach area since 1965 until I moved to Mexico.  I may have mentioned that most of my friends are dead (well, I am very old).  The few that are left could not  accommodate me. Either someone was in their guest room or their home was on the market.  I called my lawyer who had always said that I could stay in his guest house (I sold him the property 25 years ago).  He had a woman staying there (who was not paying rent) so he asked her to move out for a few days.  I felt bad about it but could not afford three weeks in a hotel.  I did go ahead and book a hotel just a few blocks from the hospital for the night before surgery and the night after.
I had to be there at 5:30 in the morning and planned to drive myself there.

I arrived on time and after checking in was taken to a temporary room where the anesthesiologist saw me (He had tried to reach me the night before, but called my phone in Mexico).  Then a nurse came in to insert an IV drip line in the back of my hand.  She made three attempts and could not hit a vein.  Now I have great veins, but I had been told not to even have a drink of water after midnight.  (Up until then, I had been drinking beer).  Another nurse came in and managed to place it in my right hand.  Once the anesthetic was inserted I went right to sleep.  The next thing I knew I was in a hospital room.  Once conscious, I demanded morphine.  It was a double room and the man next to me was checking out.  His entire family was there (and it was a large family) and they made a terrible racket getting him out of the room.  I had just settled back into a semi coma when the cleaning crew came in and made even more racket.  Then another man from emergency was rushed in.  Nurses all over the place and a panicky wife.  The noise went on constantly.  I don't know what they were doing to him but he was getting a lot more attention than I was.  It turned out he was in for a gall bladder operation.

I screamed and demanded something stronger than morphine.  I desperately wanted to go to sleep. The nurse gave me a hard time insisting that I was getting very strong pain medication.  I told her to call the doctor for it was not working.  The commotion next  door went on all day and night.  It was 11:00 at night before it was quiet enough for me to sleep (after a 7:00am surgery).  My doctor never did appear.  He sent an assistant.  I did not like him any better.  The following night he did show up to say that the "surgery went well" and sorry about the six stab wounds in my abdomen. For some reason they did not go in the side as planned.  I told him that I need a shower.

To my amazement, there was no shower in my bathroom (unlike my Mexican hospital room).  I asked the nurse and she said the doctor had to approve a shower.  I told her that he already had and she said she would "check on it".  Nothing happened so with my IV removed I got out of bed and went to the nurses station.  It was directly in front of my room which also contributed to the noise as the nurses were always laughing and talking (about the patients, I am sure).  I had constantly asked them to close the door.  The nurse informed me that the doctor had approved the shower, but I had to wait for someone to go with me.  I told her that I did not want someone "with me" in the shower.  Just give me a towel and I will find it myself.  Reluctantly, she did.

Once showered, I wanted out of there.  I had to wait for the doctor to release me and once he did, I dressed, gathered my stuff and went back to the nurses station.  They said I need to sign the release papers.  Fine, give them to me and I will sign what ever they are.  Once the paper work was done, I just walked out.  No wheel chair, and no one to meet me.  They were glad to get rid of me.  Now, I am sure you think that I must be a terrible patent, and maybe I am.  But I have had enough surgeries and been in enough hospitals to know that if you just lie there quietly and suffer, you will get nothing!   I told any one who would listen how much better, cleaner and nicer the hospitals were in Mexico  

Kathie was to pick me up, but she doesn't get it together in the mornings very well.  She said she could not make it until after noon.  I had my car in the parking lot, so I just drove myself to the hotel.    I did have someone pull my luggage out of the trunk and put it in my room.  I had left it there in the parking lot at the hospital.
                                                                        
Kathie finally arrived at the hotel several hours later, but by then, I had walked across the street to a shopping mall and gotten something to eat.  The next day I went to my lawyers guest house.  He and his "new" wife are from New York and they party until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning.  It was fine, I slept like a baby on pain killers and sleeping pills (which I was).  A week later I saw my doctor (for the last time)  He was amazed at how quickly I heal (every doctor I have ever had has said the same thing).  The "Wilsons" are built tough.    He told me no gym for at least three weeks.  We will see !  Then I flew home.  Richard met me at the airport in his new car and I had the "fish taco" man next door carry my bag up the stairs.  He refused a tip.

It was so wonderful to be back home and as luck would have it we had two cools days of rain.  But the sun came out and it has been hot ever since. (I do not care),  It was just good to be in my own place again. I had asked Filipe (my favorite bar tender and good friend) to water my plants while I was gone.  Alex normally does it, but he had just had surgery to repair a broken femur from a motorcycle accident.  I gave Filipe the same amount I gave Alex and he was very happy.  To my amazement, he had cleaned the entire house that morning.  (actually his girlfriend/wife did it).  He said he did not want me to come home after surgery and have to clean house.  See how nice people are here ?

So my life is back to normal (well normal for Mexico) and I intend to live it as much and as hard as I can.  My cocktail party will be in November, so I am busy planning and getting stuff for that.  I really do like my life better here and the hospitals are a Hell of a lot better (I just have to pay for them)


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SAUL AND EL VENTILADOR (FAN)

During the nearly three years that I have lived in Mexico, I have met an awful lot of people (enough to have 40 to 50 at my cocktail parties).   About half are Mexican Nationals.  The "gringos" are about half American and half Canadian.  Oddly my closest friends are Mexicans.  Most of the "gringos" are "snow bird" and only live here for 3 to 6 months of the year.  The people who live here year round tend to be a little odd (but then I guess I am am odd duck too).  Elvis would be my closest friend, but no one has been more helpful to me than Saul.

He was in the apartment the first day my Realtor showed it to me.  Although he spoke English, I had a terrible time understanding him.  At first I thought he might be retarded (Sorry ! mental challenged).  But I soon realized that he had a sever speech impediment.  It is sort of like a bad stutter for he struggles for a long time with each word (in English or Spanish).   He offered to help me with the apartment and indicated that he was sort of the maintenance man for the Rizo Family (who own the entire block).  The apartment was a disaster and I knew I would need a lot of help making it livable for me.

The first day I had him meet me there,  I was not happy when he announced that he did not do cleaning, floors, nor did he do painting.  He only did electrical and plumbing.  Well, I had plenty of that for him to do and so I hired Alex to help me with the rest of the work.   I found out that Saul not only knew all about electricity and plumbing but was a genius with anything mechanical.  He took the motor out of the fan in my bedroom and fixed it, then installed two more fans in the living area.  The fan in the bathroom turned out to be beyond repair, so I had him buy a new one.  I had asked the owner to remove the old stove and I would replace it with a new one.  Not only was I afraid it might blow up, but it was so awful I didn't think I could eat anything that was cooked in it.  The refrigerator was just as old and ugly but instead of removing it, I asked them to move it up to the deck and place it in the covered laundry area (I have no idea how they managed to get it up there).   It was only later that I discovered that while it stayed cool, it would not get cold enough to keep beer in it (the main reason I wanted it on the upstairs deck).  Saul discovered that the fan motor was not working properly.  He took it out and rather than buy a new one, fixed it.  As I said, he is a genius with motors.

I also had him install new wiring on the deck so I could have a switch at the top of the stairs that would turn on two lights under my newly built cabana.  I think I mentioned earlier that while the placement of the switch on the wall made it look quite professional, once I looked around the outside wall I discovered there was an uncovered lamp wire running across the outside wall from the laundry area.  If they have building or electric codes here, I am unaware of them  (Obviously so are all the plumbers and electricians).  Over the year, I always found new things for Saul to do and always was quite pleased and surprised at how little he charged me.

He still works for the Rizo family even though they have owed him back wages from a year ago when their grocery store was shut down by the city for not paying their help.  He also works for anyone he can find that needs him.  He works long hours every day.  I can see the back door to his little shop around the corner (in an abandoned building also owned by the Rizos).   I have seen his lights on as late as 10:30 to 11:00 at night.  He always wears slacks and a short sleeve dress shirt (although the shirt is usually stuck to his body with sweat),  When I need something done that is beyond his expertise, he always knows someone who will do it cheap.  I needed a railing going up to my deck.  My friend had had some iron work done so I asked him first.  He informed me that it would cost thousands of pesos.  I asked Saul and he brought over a little man (who spoke not a word of English).  He measured the space, made the iron balustrade, painted it black and installed it in a few hours for 350 pesos (less than $30.00),

So, when I decided I needed a wall fan under by cabaña I called Saul.  I explained that I wanted a small rotating fan like the ones at Apache's.   Last year I always had a nice breeze on the deck either from the mountains or the sea.  Not this year;  many nights there is not a breath or air.  He quoted a very low price and said it would be done the next day.  It was a week later, but that is Mexico.   When he arrived with it I was shocked.  It looked huge (I think it would have worked just fine on a small prop plane).  It was also white and I was afraid it was just too obtrusive for the ambiance I have tried to created up there.  But he had gone all across town to buy it and carried it back on a bus (and it was cheap), so I let him install it. He had to bring in a new wire for a plug outlet (I never bother to look to see how it got there)   I am still not happy with the look, but it does a nice job of cooling the air.  As I have said many times before, you don't always get exactly what you want here (Let me correct that statement.  You almost never get what you want in Mexico).


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MOSCAS (FLIES), MOSQUITOES, AND OTHER INSECTS

You may recall that during my first year here, I commented on my surprise at the lack of bugs here.  You could never say we were bug free, but considering all the garbage piled on each corner block (trash pick up is very primitive here) and that we are surrounded by jungle, it was amazing how seldom I noticed flies or other insects.  Especially when you consider our weather, which is hot and humid (have you ever been to Florida in the summer?).  Well this year everything changed.

It has been hotter and we have had rain at some time almost every day for months.  First it was the swarms of termites.  It was a constant battle.   Each morning I would wake up to find the floor littered with tiny wings.  What that means is that the varmint has crawled away to find wood.  Now the older homes are all brick or concrete and all windows and outside doors are metal, so they go for the furniture.  They are so invasive that they invade live trees.  There was a large tree in the parking area at my old apartment that collapsed on a tenant's car one night.  When I went out to inspect it you could see that the trunk was totally riddled with termites (and the tree still had green leaves !).  The termites really love my equipauli furniture (pig skin over crude wood frames).  At the hardware store I bought a huge bottle of a foul smelling turpentine like stuff.  You apply it with a paint brush and it soaks into the wood.  It does work, but is a messy laborious task.  For some reason after a the first few weeks of rain the termite stopped swarming (doesn't mean they aren't chewing on some of my furniture however).  The geckos that crawl all over my walls and ceiling do help somewhat (they love to eat termites) but the problem is they also poop everywhere.

The flies this year have been very pesky and are constantly landing on you.  Even though I shower twice a day, your skin is still constantly covered with perspiration.  The ants have caused me some concern.  At first they made homes in my potted plants.  I did find a very toxic white stuff at the local nursery that is pretty effective, but they have moved to the floors.   I clean my own house, mopping the floors and trust me, there isn't a crumb anywhere.   We have three sizes of ants.  We have the regular ones, but also tiny ants that are almost microscopic.  Unless you catch them on something white they are almost invisible.  Also new this year are the huge red aunts.  I really hate those.   Oddly enough we don't seem to have much of a problem with cockroaches (which you would think we would).  I have always scattered about those "roach motel" from Raid and in three years I think I have seen maybe 5 or 6 dead ones.


Nothing has caused me more stress than the mosquitoes.  This year they are eating me alive, mostly around the ankles (more blood down there).  The City (or some municipality) sends people though the neighborhoods with bags of little white granules.  They will deposit them anywhere you have any standing water (I have 24 pots and all have saucers).  But you have to be home when they pass.  They were at my first two apartments, but so far this year, I have missed them.  The stores sell all kinds of products for mosquitoes and I have tried all of them.  There are the plug-ins, sprays, lotions and I even tried a home remedy.  You cut a lime in half and then stick cloves in it.  The most effective seems to be the smoke bombs.  It is a swirl of green stuff that you place on a little holder and lite it.   The downside is that it stinks and your home constantly smells like something burning (no I do not smoke inside my home).  One reason I really do not know how effective any of these things are is because you don't know when or where you are being bitten.  The mosquitoes here are tiny (maybe a little larger than a gnat).  They also make no sound.  There is no "Bzzzz" to tell you that one is about to suck your blood.

Besides the usual pests (if you can all any of them usual) we have some really strange things.  You have already seen that spider that was as large as my hand, but take a look at this odd caterpillar.  I check all my plants constantly for any problems and found that something was eating my palm trees (I have six of them)  First I found a huge green grass hoppers that could strip and entire frond in one night.  By hosing the plants and them stepping on the bastards I got rid of them.  But leaves continued to be eaten.  I finally found this odd bug.  I tried to pull it off and was badly stung by it.  At first I thought it bit me, but after spraying the pest until it dropped onto the tile, I discovered that it had horns and its whole body was covered with needle like barbs (I guess no bird would dare try to eat it).  I have so far found five of them all on one palm tree.  You look for little dropping then check the underside of the leaf above.

My holyconia flowers are attracting more wasps than ants.  Now some wasp (or I am assuming it is a wasp) have decided to make nests in my stair case.  I have knocked down at least 10 mud nests.  One night on my way to bed I had just turned off the lights when I saw what looked like jewels on my floor. As I moved toward it, the jewels moved !  I turned the lights back on and found a beetle like bug.  Within a few seconds he closed his brilliant neon like night vision eyes and all that was left was an ugly brown bug.  I stepped on it.  Now we do also have some very colorful butterflies, but one of them produced those horrible caterpillars. Yes, I know that some of you are reading this with your mouths hanging open.  What can I say ?  Not all paradises are perfect !

MEMORY (OR THE LACK OF)

Loss of memory of is just one of the banes of old age.  Anyone over about 70 worries that one day they will wake up with Alzheimer's Disease.  Very few do, but it is a worry.  The inability to retain information is quite common in old people.   It certainly is with me (okay, maybe drug and alcohol abuse contributed to my situation).  I must carefully plan everything and make notes.  I have already told you about my Day Timer Books.  Maybe I wrote about this before (but I do not remember).  This has a great effect on my ability to learn Spanish.  The irregular verbs are murder. The conjugation of some borrow not a single letter from the infinitive.  It is pure memory work (you can see my problem).  Everything on the computer requires a password now.  No way to remember all of them, so when I can I use the same ones (I know that is stupid, but so am I).  If I write the password down, I can never find where I put it.

Bridge at 1:00 on Thursday is pretty much ingrained in my head, but other dates or appointments not written down, will probably be missed.  I would never think of entering a store without a complete shopping list. The list cannot be done at one sitting.  Every time I realize that I am running short or out of something, I must write it down on my list.   Sometimes my "to do list" is carried over from day to day (sometimes for more than a week).  As I told you, I am basically lazy and if it can be put off, it will be put off.

Whenever I plan on leaving the house, what ever I need to take with me will either be tossed on the comforter or lying on the corner of the small dinning table at the top of the stairs.  I only have one pair of sandals with rubber soles.  If it is raining, I must leave them also at the top of the stairs or I will forget to change out of my leather soled ones.  Often as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I will think of something I forgot to take with me.  If I already have something in my hand, half of the time I will lay down what ever is in my hand when I pick up the new object (leaving the former behind),  It is not totally hopeless, but close.  I usually leave the key in the lock on the inside so it is staring at me when I exit.  This does not always work for me.

Last week I decided to visit a bar that is only a half block away from me.  My favorite bar tender was off that night at my usual bar.  Luckily a good friend of mine was sitting at the bar.  He had been in Canada before I left and I had not seen him since my return.  We had a nice chat and after my second beer, I said that I was going home.  As I walked toward my apartment I reached in my pocket for the key.  Not there!  My cargo shorts have six or seven pockets, I checked all of them. I went back in the bar and looked on the floor under my bar stool.  Nothing!

I explained to my friend about my lost key and that the only person who had an extra key was in California that week.  My friend thought I had better call a lock smith.   Then I noticed I had also forgotten to bring my phone.  Whenever I plug it in to recharge, nine out of ten times I will leave it hanging on the wall plug.  If it isn't on the table or on my bed cover, it will be left behind.  I told him that I had left the windows open as it was a very warm night and if I had a ladder I might be able to reach the balcony.  He suggested a lock smith again and said he would go get the number and left the bar.  I wondered if maybe at his home he had the cell phone of a lock smith who worked after 9:00 at night.

He was gone a long time as I sipped on my third beer.  Then the bar phone rang and the bar tender who speaks not a word of English handed me the phone.  It was my friend who had a ladder and said to meet him at my apartment.  I had to pay my bill and under the circumstances figured I should also pay my friends bill as well.  He had obviously been at the bar a lot longer and it seemed to take forever for the bar tender to tally the bill.  I would have said,  "Hurry up please!" but since he did not know English I knew this would just delay the process.

When I got there my friend had what looked like a ladder off a fire truck that he said he got from his landlady.  It barely reached the top of the balcony railing.  He insisted on climbing up (well it is at least 20 years younger than I am).  Shortly he opened the door with my keys in his hand (they were in the inside lock).  I thanked him profusely and told him I was going to have an extra key made and give it to him as he only lives two blocks from me.

Another narrow escape for me due to the kindness of friends.  It does make me rethink just how safe I am here since my windows are open all day for fresh air until I go to bed.  Had the fish restaurant next door been open, I am sure one of them would have ventured over to ask what was going on.  But the taco man across the street nor the dozen or so clients thought that a ladder to the second floor was anything unusual at all. Maybe in Mexico it is not that unusual.


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WELCOME TO MY WORLD

Yes, I am back from my medical sojourn to California.  Let's just say that I am better and I think that will be the last that is said about my medical history (unless I change my mind).

Since most of my blog centers around the problems I encounter living here (and there are many),  I decided to try to describe some of the more pleasant experiences of my life.  If it sounds a little mundane and boring to you, well that is what the "problems' are for (to add some spice into my life).  You do have to be tough and you must be open to new ways of living and experiencing life.  It may not be for everyone, but at my advanced age, it suits me just fine.  Many people ask me what I do all day, so I will take your through a typical day.

My morning begins with coffee and a cigarette on my balcony where I watch the early stirrings of life in Puerto Vallarta.  People going off to work, little kids patiently wait for buses to take them to school (some are accompanied by their mothers).  Most mornings a truck arrives full of freshly picked tomatoes, onions and peppers to sell them to the two restaurants on my street.  Then a man arrives with one of those stick brooms and a scoop.  He managed to get most of the leaves and the debris left over from the previous nights revelries.  It is not as effective as the power hoses used in Paris, but it helps.  If I am up quite early I will catch a homeless man carefully fold up a large piece of cardboard and place in the the V of the tree across the street.  It was months before I realized why that piece of cardboard was always in the tree.

 Later when I am capable of managing the 17 steps to my deck, I will finish my coffee up there, while checking on my potted plants (I now have 25 of them).  A lot of my time is spent tending to all my plants and I do love them all.  You may notice how my haliconia has grown and I took  a photo of two new hibiscus plants whose blooms resemble camellias. 

After freshening up a little, I will walk to two blocks to my coffee shop.  It is nothing to look at and most people would just pass it by.  But they have very good coffee and fresh organic food.  They are also very pleasant and I know almost everyone who stops there.  While sipping my iced latte, I plan my day (or days).  I have a small "Day Timer" that I use and write everything down.  Yes, I know that is very old fashioned.  I should use an Ipod, or at least a Blackberry.  You must realize that computers were not invented until I was already middle aged.  I also make up shopping lists.  Because of all the books I read, often I will walk another few blocks to another coffee shop that has a much wider selection of used books.
It is located next to Plaza Cardenas.  Sometimes I will walk through the park on my way home.  Last year the Garden Society replanted it.  It will take another year, but after all the rain, it is looking pretty.

With my day planned I start off.  If I need money (and too often I do), it is necessary to cross the river to the bank that is affiliated with my bank.  It is also one of the safest ATM's in the area.  Shopping means lots of stops.  Guadalajara Pharmacy is good for most house hold supplies, but carries no produce (they do have a small deli, however).  If you want fruit (I go through lots of bananas and they are cheap) there is a small store that sells fruit and nuts, but no vegetables.  For those I either stop at Los Mercados (where the white people shop).  It is more expensive but the produce is better than either the open market or the few items the corner Tiendas carry.  About twice a month, I will have to take a bus to Walmart or Costco.  If I buy more than my back pack will carry, I take a taxi home (about $5.00).

I read a lot and love my little reading area with my equipauli chairs and lamp table (sometimes I just lie in bed and read).  Of course there is the gym.  It seems that every few months, I have to start all over again. I try to go at least 3 times a week (usually 4, and sometimes 5).  Every Thursday, I play duplicate bridge.  It gets quite competitive during the season when we will have as many as 14 tables.   I almost always have lunch out.  I don't mind eating alone for lunch but do not like to for dinner.  I will either eat something at home (sometimes take out) or something I have cooked, or just skip it if I had a late lunch.  Yes, I do go to a bar most evenings, but limit myself to two drinks (at the bar anyway).

At least once a week I will go to the beach.  Many people just sit under the palapas, but I like to get some sun as well.  I always have a few drinks and sometimes food.  The water is shallow, but the surf can be rough, so normally I just walk from one end of the beach to the pier at the other end.  Since it is summer and low season here, there are very few people on the beach (or anywhere else).   The water now is warmer than bath water.

 I have also started my Spanish lessons with a new tutor.  For some reason he likes to give his lessons at the Page in the Sun Coffee Shop.  Maybe he thinks all the book shelves are conducive to study.  I pick up several books a week there and one day my tutor asked me how many books I read a week.  I proudly told him that I read three or four books a week and he said,  "And how many hours to you spend studying Spanish"  OUCH!!

Whether I go out to a bar or dinner, I also begin (and end) my evenings up on my deck with a cocktail (or two).  I recheck my plants and just love sitting there under my cabana.  Now that we are getting the summer rains, I really love to sit there and watch the rain pour down around me.   Yes, it is hot and humid during the summer months, but the rain does help a lot.  In some ways I like summer better than winter for Puerto Vallarta does become a small little village.  As I walk through the streets here, I will see someone I know on almost very block.  It is a quiet simple life that suits me in my old age.


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MEDASIST RE-ASSESSED

You probably did not expect a new posting on Mexican Medicine so soon, did you.  Well, neither did I, but these posts are written mostly as stuff happens.  I also don't like to talk about my personal life and especially not my illnesses (too many old people do that).  But this was too good to resist, so here I am again.

My stay at Medasist last December was about what was determined to be a bad attack on my pancreas.  I do remember when I asked "How did this happen?"  One of the doctor said it might have been caused by my gall bladder.  When I was in the States the following March, I told my doctor but he did not seem to think that any further tests were necessary (HMO !!)  I have had some very bad symptoms since (like really horrible pain) but not bad enough to go back to that hospital.  Then the last time, I decided that I would have to return to the States and get a full physical.  But first I needed something for the pain.  I first went to the local clinic.  She (yes, most of my doctors here are female) told me she was pretty sure it was not the pancreas, but my gall bladder.  She gave me some medicine which helped a little, but in any case I felt I must get back to California.

I put a call into my doctor there (of course you don't get to speak to a doctor, just a nurse).  I explained my problem and said I would like him to set up a meeting with a specialist.  She said that he would have to exam me first before any referral and that might take a month.  I told her that it was just not possible for me to wait a month just for the first appointment.  Could she speak to the doctor and see if I could not get in right away to see a specialist?  She said,  "That is NOT the way it works !"  (I think her name was Nurse Rachett.)  That was on a Friday.

I tried again the following Monday and this time got a human who did speak to my doctor and came back with the number of a specialist.  When I called to make an appointment I realized that this was The Fourth of July Week.  Not only were there no empty seats on flights, but the doctors offices were closing on Wednesday.  I went for the following week.  This nurse was extremely helpful and pleasant and suggested that I try to get a hold of my insurance company so it would be preapproved.  (Good Luck, I thought after my last experience with them)  Then she also suggested that I have a sonogram done before flying off.  Good idea !  I went to see my Dr. Lupita and she set it up for the following morning.

My doctor here was also concerned for I was turning jaundiced.  I called back to the specialist to say that I did have an appointment for a sonogram and mentioned I was now jaundiced.  She asked a lot of other questions, left the phone and came back and said I should speak to my primary care doctor.  I did not call him, but apparently she did and he called me to say that I should not risk the flight and to have to surgery done in Mexico immediately.  In some ways this was a relief, if I could talk the hospital into waiting six months for my insurance .to pay anything.  I decided to call my insurance company  There were about 6 numbers on my card, but sadly it is all push button phone.  If you keep insisting on speaking to someone, you get the same woman who has nothing to do with the insurance company but is paid to answer medical questions.  After I wound up with her three times from three different numbers, I gave up.

At 8;30 the following morning they were all ready for me, a nurse took some blood, then a technician led me to a room for the sonogram.  His English was quite limited, but he did understand when I asked if he could see a stone in my gall bladder.  He said "No stone, gall bladder good"  Somehow this was not good news to me.  I tried to ask what was wrong and he mentioned "grasse" or fat on my kidney.

Then he proclaimed that I had two kidneys (like this was supposed to make me feel better).  Then he asked me to wait ten minutes and he took me to another room where they put me through a CT Scan.  No one could explain why or what was going on and I was told that I could not see Dr. Lupita until 1:00 when the test results would be back.

The lab tests showed that my pancreas and gall bladder with were within normal range.   The liver count was slightly elevated (not a surprise), but nothing else unusual.  The CT Scan and sonogram showed no stones in the gall bladder.  So basically they have no clue what has called my illness.  The doctor proudly pushed the result (all in Spanish) in front of me like I should be pleased.  I was not.

 This should have been good news, but I wanted an answer.  So I decided there was nothing to do but to fly back home and have a complete physical done there.  I had the results of my tests faxed to my doctor (unfortunately in Spanish) but hopefully he can figure it.  So I booked a one way flight for the following week.  All my doctors are on vacation this week.  The first chance I had to call was Monday.  At one doctor's office I left a message for an appointment and made an appointment to see my primary care doctor.  The first office called back to say my doctor was out of the country until August.   Then a nurse for my primary care doctor called to say that it was still risky for me to travel and the doctor suggested I stay here for more tests. MORE TESTS ??  I had blood tests, a sonogram, a CT Scan, (all of which the hospital said they faxed to him.  What more did he want.  I called back and said,  "Tell the doctor I am coming anyway.

  My friend here said,  "Well, it is good they found nothing wrong with you"  My answer was "Just because they found nothing wrong doesn't mean there isn't.  I still feel like SHIT and I have no intention of finish my declining years in pain and misery.  I don't care if I am old !¨"  So off I go California.  Stay tuned but it may be a while before another posting..


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