Rainy day

It rained all day, so we were mainly indoors again, but this time at my in-laws. In the afternoon we made "brunyols", which is our typical pastry for Easter. We did it in the old house, because my MIL can't stand all the mess we seem to make :-)

Paint chaos

We stayed mostly home today... painting, modeling with playdoh and clay, playing with memory cards (I lost to A even though I tried so very hard, I must really be getting old), and watching a movie: The Nightmare before Christmas. I love the lyrics in this movie...
Does it sound like fun? Everything except picking up after them even though they did help... and cleaning paint all over the kitchen floor

This is the entrance of an old town, not far from where we live...

Have you ever tried....

sea urchin roe?
We had some at my parents'
It's considered a delicacy...

The way I see it...

Elections held in Spain last Sunday, with socialist victory, have proved once more that there are two Spains: a traditional, conservative one (in the moral sense, I'm not talking about economics) which will side with the church and still, in many cases, doesn't see Franco as a such bad part of our past (that would be PP), and a more progressive one that would definately condemn Franco's regime... The gay-lesbian marriage thing is just one of the laws Zapatero has brought (Socialists have also passed a law to harden the punishments for domestic violence and protect abused women more effectively, and have improved conditions for the working young people to access housing, given the huge rise in prices.
However, I don't think many people vote for that as much as they vote out of fear, fear of the others... to understand that, we'd have to take a look at our recent past ... Many of our problems still stem from the civil war (1936-1939) which brought a long dictatorship with Franco supported always by the catholic church. Among other things, Franco was determined to erradicate any trace of identity except Spanish, thus Catalan was forbidden (my mom would be spanked if she was caught speaking her own language at school!). In general terms, Catalans and most peripheral Spain fought to maintain a republic and avoid Franco rising to power, while another part of Spain was siding with the dictator, and they won.
We still have these two sides in Spain. Many people vote out of fear. Socialists have played that card: "Vote for us, or they will come!", and PP has played that card too: "Vote for us, or Catalans will rule and Spain will break!" PP has once again used the language/cultural issue, and Catalans have played a big role in Zapatero winning, not so much because they love him, but because we see the alternative as far worse.
The debates on TV didn't help PP either, their leader (Rajoy) actually brought up Irak on the debate, when that was a major factor for their losing elections in the past! That was clearly unwise (in my opinion). So Catalans fear PP and have been decisive in the socialist victory, and the same has happened in the basque country. They have voted more for socialists, and the killing of a former councilman triggered the anger in many people who rebelled against ETA's "recommendation" that they should abstain from voting, and have hugely supported socialists....

So to answer your question, James, the socialists victory is ok with me... but only ok...

Trying to explain this in English is a bit of a challenge...!

ETA had to appear in this campaign and murder again. This time it was a politician not even active, he had been a town councilman some years go but that's the point, those who are have escort, so this man didn't. He was an easy target. I don't understand these idiots... what do they want??

To continue with my pics, A started swimming today without a back float, so this is an important photograph!...

American dream?

H and I were watching the news yesterday and a piece about elections in the US caught our attention. It was about Obama, and a team of reporters had actually interviewed Obama's mother in Kenya. The woman was dressed in traditional African clothing and spoke about proudly about his son. H said "This truly is the American dream...!" We have elections in Spain soon aswell (next sunday) and I think we still need to learn a lot about the US, even though it's not a perfect country either. It would be unthinkable in Spain to have someone running for president with relatives say in Morocco or any other African country. Our society is still quite prejudiced, and not just about people from other countries, in fact nobody could picture a Catalan running for president of Spain, and that would have nothing to do with race or ethnicity. Likewise, there was some controversy when Catalans elected president for our comunity because the winner is not a perfect Catalan. Mr Montilla was not born here, he has Andalusian descent and a Spanish last name. He won though. I wonder if I'll ever see a Catalan as president of the country. We really do have a long way to go...

To continue with my photographic journal (I blame Jessica for that) here's a pic inside my workplace...

Escudella i carn d'olla

Our lunch today was the most typical dish in Catalan cuisine: escudella. It's a winter stew with lots of vegetables, meat and soup that is usually served in two parts, first the soup with pasta (tiny type of pasta) or rice, and then the meat with vegetables seasoned with just olive oil and a bit of salt. I use my mom's recipe, and I prepared two big meatballs with minced meat, egg, garlic, parsley and minced bread, made a soup with carrots, leek, celery, turnip, cabbage and pieces of lamb, veal, chicken and pork. When the meat was soft enough I took it out of the pot and prepared the two separate dishes. It's laborious... and I actually began making it the day before... here are some pics...

This is the minced meat, bread and egg I used...


I used frozen garlic and parsley cubes (that's not in my mom's recipe, she'd say this is not healthy, but this way your hands don't stink of garlic)


This is what we call "pilota" which is made of minced meat. It's actually like big meatballs...


We always cook and season with olive oil


On another note... it's been more than three months since H had his last seizure... I almost don't dare say it...

Just some pics of the day

With C in the elevator...

A snack...

Watching tv...

The view from our terrace

Birthday

We celebrated my dad's 80th birthday...

Saturday

We spend every saturday at my inlaws... Did I tell you they have chickens?

The nursery school

I've been taking C to a very nice nursery school for the past 1.5 years. It's a big place, with nice staff, a spacious class, a dining-room, and C's favorite, a playroom with a house in miniature. They all love it, because they can play house with small beds, a tiny kitchen with a fridge, oven, table, and food (plastic, of course), a closet with an assortment of clothing and shoes to dress up and even a couch and a TV that does not work. When it's nap time, they have a separate room with beds, and the best of all, the nursery school has a big playground. Overall, it's a very nice place and not expensive at all. BUT, it's in the worst neighborhood. It's state-run (there are several in our town), and following a policy of creating good equipments in poor areas, they ended up building this nursery school in this neighborhood. I had never been there before enrolling my daughter there. I just knew about it from the news. When I read the newspaper and find something about drug dealers being arrested, it's always there. Over the years, it has become sort of a ghetto. Mostly gipsies live there. There's so much talk about immigrants and integration, but in there, you'd find a good example of a group of people born in the country who don't share the general rules. There are trash containers on the street, but you can find all kinds of rubbish on the ground, just a few meters from where they should be. I just don't understand it. Is it so hard to walk a few more steps and throw it where it belongs? Another puzzling thing: some mothers take their kids to the nursery school and don't bother to change clothes, so you see them in slippers and pajama walking down the street with the kid. Hmmm... I would be embarrassed but they don't seem to bother. And another habit: eating sunflower seeds and spitting the husk on the ground (is husk the right word?).... I remember when we told our families that C would be going to this nursery school... they were shocked. But we think it was a good decision. My daughter has always felt comfortable in the school, she's happy and I guess that's the best indicator... Anyway, next year she'll join her sister in another school (the one A is attending), it's only 4 more months! The worst part about the nursery school is the drive... it's in the farthest part of town... In the beginning, Hubby drove her in the morning and I would pick her up after lunch, but then he was diagnosed with epilepsy, and I took care of the driving....

Dad, according to C

That's my husband, according to Cristina. She likes to draw her father, nonstop, but he always looks like this. What I don't get is, his legs seem to grow from his head up. And that's not hair on the sides of his head. I suggested it was, but C quickly corrected me. Those are his ears.

That's also hubby, and it's always her next step. The first time she did that I asked "why are you scratching it out?" and she said "Noooo.... I'm covering him with a blanket". Ok.
Looks like an alien to me. But I won't tell her.

There's something on your hair...

I don't spend much time in the mornings trying to make myself pretty. I don't use makeup and I hardly ever wear earrings or any other ornament... but yesterday I decided I looked too bad even for my taste so I tried to make my hair look at least ok. And I even put on a hairclip. Hmm... A red one. I arrived at work, said hello and one of my coworkers said "Nuri, there's something on your hair... something red" Something?? I did that on purpose! It was supposed to look good! All that effort...

Random thoughts

WARNING: Grammatical, spelling mistakes ahead (I don't have the time to check)
I've been quite busy, I can only confirm that I am, indeed, a lousy blogger.
Other than that, no bad news in our household. It's been more than 2 months since H had his last seizure, so we're hopeful... However, the results on his sleep deprived EEG showed abnormal waves. The doctor said those waves shouldn't be there since he is on medication, but did not suggest a change. I guess he won't change his medication unless he has another seizure...
Just yesterday, we were having dinner, and Alicia asked out of the blue "Mom, what if you fall down like dad and it's just me and Cristina, what will happen to us?" It was totally unexpected since we had not been talking about it at all, in fact she seemed completely uninterested. I had tried to get her to tell me how she felt in the park when her dad had his seizure, but she refused to talk and I just let it go. But yesterday she gave me a full account of that day, and she seemed worried that it might happen to me or her... I told her it's a condition her father has, not me, and not her (let's not talk about genetics...) and that she should not worry because dad always recovers completely...

And now for something funny... my SIL went to the doctor because she had rash on the back of her neck. The doctor took a good look at her neck and head and then gave her the news: "ma'am, you have headlice!, do you have children?"
She was horrified. She's close to being a clean freak, her house is spotless, and changes his son's clothes if there so much as a tiny stain on them! The doctor actually explained that it does not mean she's dirty, that kids get them quite easily and sometimes pass them to adults, but she was sooo worried! I checked on Cristina, since the children had been playing together on sunday, and bought a special comb, but no lice or nits... Poor SIL

Party...

I'm going to some kind of a farewell party for my boss. He won't be leaving the company, just changing his office, so we'll see him around anyway. My co-workers have prepared some surprises for him, and even wrote a song! I feel uncomfortable with the whole thing. It looks like a cult boss. Do we worship him or what?? We can have lunch, even exchange small presents but actually SING something to him and have some sort of magician perform for him??? Too much.

Childhood story

Alicia: you know, mom, you don't have to take me to school everyday, I know the way, I can go on my own...
Me: Really?... Tell me, what if you're walking to school and someone driving a car tells you he can drive you?
Alicia: I'd go in the car and tell him where the school is!
she says that smiling, believing that her answer made her pass my "test", but I tell her never to do that, that she should never accept a ride from somebody outside the family. She looks confused, in part because she doesn't understand what some bad person might possibly want from her.


I'm writing this because Buffalo has a post that made me think about something that happened in my childhood. My sister (she was 7 or 8 at the time) once accepted a ride from a man we knew. Not that he was a friend, but he was a familiar face. She started to get scared when she noticed he wasn't driving towards our house. At some point he stopped and kissed her on the lips, saying they could pretend they were boyfriend and girlfriend. My sister was too scared to react. He continued driving and when he stopped again (a traffic light I suppose) she opened the door, jumped out and started running. When she told my mother, she didn't go to the police. Instead, she found out where the man lived and paid a visit. His wife opened the door and my mother demanded to see him. something in my mom's face told her this was serious, and she invited her in but she just told her to get her husband. When he came at the door he barely had time to say anything. My mother slapped him hard in the face, told his wife what he had done and told him she was going to the police. He begged her not to do it and swore he'd never do that to her daughters or any other kid. God knows if he kept his word... but I remember my sister was proud of her mom that night. We all were, even though that's not the type of behavior my dad approves. He would have followed the rational, legal way and gone to the police, but my mom's always been the temperamental one. Do you think she did the right thing? I believe she should have slapped him AND gone to the police, but that was about 34 years ago...

Per molts anys!

3 years ago...

Today:

Waiting

I'm angry. My husband is in France again with his father to see Dr Mystery. He had an appointment (I'm beginning to realise appointments mean nothing to this man) at 1pm and at 6pm he was still in the waiting room. This is just unbelievable. Could it be just a strategy? I mean, if he keeps people waiting in a small room maybe everyone believe he is really worth it... I'm wondering if he is, in fact, a quack after all. Even if he's a physiotherapist, he's still so unreliable when it comes to hours.

Exhausted

I'm exhausted. I feel I've been on a marathon for the last two days. Yesterday we went to see the three kings (the wise men) arrive, and this morning the children opened up their presents. I've been either assembling things, putting batteries in toys or picking wrapping paper and carton boxes... I'll post some pictures tomorrow.

My MIL told me today that Alicia said to her "I like the other grandma better than you, she is nicer to me, gives us kisses and buys things". I don't like her saying any of that, but should I let this be a warning to MIL that she should be softer? Maybe hug the kids spontaneously??

I finally could upload two videos of the tió, so if you want to see them, you can click on these two links:
video 1
video 2
For some strange reason, I can't post them directly on the blog!
By the way, the song and voices are Catalan...

Bubbles and paint

Sometimes we tend to buy sophisticated toys, but among the gifts from the tió, the simplest entertainment proved to be one of the kids' favorites: this thing to make bubbles. They're always amazed!

Cristina was also fascinated with paint, as you can see. But this painting box turned out to be a bit of a nightmare. See what 3 minutes of unattended painting frenzy will get you...

That strange tradition from Catalonia

I couldn't upload a video of the tió, so I'll post pictures. This is how it works:1-the kids go to another room to pray or say a christmas verse2-they come back and take a stick and chant while hitting the log3-when the song is over they check under the tió for presents4-they repeat the same thing until there's only chocolate which means the tió is done, and won't give anymore presents...Don't ask me how kids believe this! they want to believe is my guess! (Is religion as easy as that? Just wanting to believe and not asking logical questions??)

Would you believe this is a Christmas tree?

It is. And I can't help but associate it with it's owner's temperament, my MIL. It's dry, austere, gloomy... I can tell the colorful lightbulbs are there because, after all, it is Christmas, and doing something festive is a must, a chore, but one must never be too happy about it. Just the bare minimum of Christmas spirit.

Our tió...

We have set the tió again, "he" needs to be stuffed with food so that on the 24th, he'll... release lots of presents for the children!

happiness

Is this pill going to make me happy?

Is it going to bring back my motivation to do things?

Is it going to change the grouchy me into a sugarcoated mom?

Will it actually make me want to iron clothes, pick up the kids happily and do all my daily chores as if I were a character in The Sound of Music??

If it is, so be it...

Pic of the day: daughters playing at high speed

nice....

My co-workers again... but this time it's nice. They decided I need some time off and arranged for us to go have dinner someplace and go to see a movie. I need to get a babysitter for tomorrow!
It was actually so nice of them... I've been a bit down lately.

"Friends" at work

Remember I was mad at one of my co-workers (there's two actually working in the same department I am) because she had made an insensitive comment about the lunatic doctor in France?. Ok, things are quite good since I talked to them both. I explained I had been through difficult times, even a bit depressed, and didn't feel much like sharing our experience of epilepsy with anyone (or them, at least, but I didn't say that). They said they felt I was shutting them out. After the talking, everything returned to normal, but I just don't see them under the same light. I still don't understand why they would feel so angry because I didn't share everything with them. It sounds a bit childish to me. And I remember a sentence they both used when I talked to them SEPARATELY. "We just didn't understand why you were so distant, when we had been so supportive..." I just don't feel that's ok. If you choose to be supportive you just don't brag about it, in my opinion. You don't remind your friend how much you've helped. That's kind of... low. And they actually said they wouldn't ask me again how my husband was doing, because I was being so "touchy". Great. I don't mind their not asking, in fact I appreciate, but I still think they're being... childish. They have kept their word, and have never asked me again how he's doing, or how I'm doing. And honestly, I prefer that. I prefer keeping my distance. We're civil, we're polite to each other and even friendly at times, but it's different now. They used to be a bit too "helpful". They always seemed to know what to do, and they insisted I should talk to my husband and make him understand he just can't be working on the same schedule, because that probably puts too much stress on him. It doesnt. He's happy at work, in fact he loves it. And he's an adult, let him decide. My two co-workers are the kind of people who not only listen to your problems, but also have a "solution". "Their" solution. And that can be annoying when all you want is somebody to listen without judging...

Romance

Alicia (5 years old) got a present yesterday from a boy in her class named Aleix, who, according to Alicia, wants to marry her. It was a necklace, wrapped in blue paper, with her name written in childish letters. As She unwrapped it, he told her he had made it himself. She stared at the big, colorful beads and asked "Is it made of candy?" and actually bit it. Talk about spoiling a romantic moment!!

Bats in the bellfree

You won't believe this... We went to see Mystery man yesterday. After driving for almost three hours we only had to wait for 4 hours to be called in. Waiting kills me. I'm worse than a kid, I get fidgety and anxious, even if I have magazines or crosswords to entertain me. It doesn't work. Maybe it would be ok if I really believed the waiting is worthwhile but...

The thing is, Dr Mystery asked some questions to my husband about his last seizure, did his little massage, and while he worked, I tried to get more information from him. I pressed until he told us more about him, but I have the feeling he only told us tales of how wonderful he is and how he's helped people. Even a very good neurologist in France, he said, asks him for advice with patients with epilepsy. "How?? How do you help?" I asked. Well... here comes the freaky part, he uses a pendulum. What the f*¨*k?? Yes, you incredulous bunch of unbelievers (I'm in here too), the pendulum helps him know if meds are good or not. So I pressed a bit more, completely clueless as to how this is supposed to work. "Why not try it with my husband?" Ok, he said. He left the room and came back with his ehem... pendulum. A silver chain with some apparently silver stuff hanging. Try not to laugh, ok? He asked what medication he takes and, completely serious, he pronounced the name of the meds while staring at the pendulum: "KEPPRA".... voilà, it doesn't work, keppra is not good for him, according to this incredible scientific experiment. And then the other drug: "ZONEGRAN".... some seconds and the pendulum says yes, it seems to work (we're so relieved the pendulum approves). Hubby and I stared at each other throughout the whole procedure, and he had to supress his laughter. "But you don't even have the pills here??" he just managed to tell the man while grinning at me. THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT, he said with his heavy French accent. The pendulum even told us when to take the pills!! Can you believe that??? All that trouble to end up with a lunatic?? Not to mention, all those years that laboratories spend on investigation, all that money, when all they need is a pendulum!!!! Oh my...
hubby is still willing to give him another chance, though. He says he may have his .... esoteric side but his massages might work... Insert BIG SIGH here.

New drug and another EEG

We went to see his epileptologist yesterday. We like him, inspite of the fact that we haven’t been able to stop seizures. He asked some questions, and then told us the best thing to do is to combine two medications. He had been taking valproat in the beginning but since it didn’t work we switched to keppra and now it will be both keppra and zonegran. In a month and half my husband needs to stay awake for a whole night and go to the hospital for an electroencephalogram to see how his brain responds to sleep deprivation and irritation. If I understood correctly, once there they’ll let him fall asleep and wake him up shortly after (how rude). So far, his brain seems perfect according to MRI, scans and such. We just don’t get why at this point in his life he has seizures and how come we follow this two month pattern... Before he had any seizures, and since he was 14 or 15, my husband remembers that he would suddenly jerk his arm without having control over it. Since this only happened once or twice a year, he hadn’t really thought it was important. The doctor did, though. He said it was a myoclonic jerk and it was clearly a sign of juvenile myoclonic epilepsy but now he’s not so sure because he explained that most (80%) JME respond well to valproat and seem to be fairly easy to control, but not his epilepsy. Maybe, just maybe, it’s another type. We’ll see... Thanks for listening. This must be a boring read. My eldest daughter was kind of scared on Sunday. When she saw her father arrive home she smiled, but she came closer to me also and took my hand...
Also, I’m sorry if I don’t comment on your blogs people, it’s kind of rude not to show up when you’re being so nice!!! I’ll do better... Today we’re going to France again to see Mystery doctor. He’s not so mysterious and not a doctor, but I still call him that ;-)

Damn pattern

I know I'm late, but I think I set myself some unrealistic standards!!
When I said I was anxious that hubby had not had a seizure in almost two months it's because so far, his condition seems to follow this pattern. In a way we were both happy that he seemed to be doing fine but at the same time, we knew we wouldn't be completely satisfied until we could say "it's been more than two months... more than three... " and we could leave epilepsy behind. But, he had a seizure yesterday (sunday). I was making lunch and he took the girls to a park nearby. Almost one hour later my cell phone rang. It was him except the voice on the end was not him, it was a woman. "Hello, you don't know me but we're here at the park and..." I didn't let her finish: "it's my husband? He had a seizure?". "Yes, but he's ok now, he's sleeping, we called an ambulance and I'm with your daughters"... She sounded calm. So I rushed to the park. There were some people gathered around him, and my daughters were playing with other kids. Thank god they all helped us. We don' really know these people, but we usually meet at this park, so we've actually seen each other before. When his seizure was over they went through his pockets, found his cell phone and tried to find a number that read "home" or something similar. The funny thing is they first called a restaurant without knowing, because it was listed under "Grandma's" which is the name of the restaurant :-)
So the ambulance came, they didn't take him to the hospital because I said no (I know it's no use, they would just refer us to his epileptologist) and instead took him to what we call a CAP (Primary attention center would be the rough translation). He just lay on some kind of stretcher and waited to be fully recovered. The doctor checked his eyes, coordination and such and after a while he said we could leave. This process is just like suddenly turning the computer off if you know what I mean. His brain shuts down suddenly and then he has to recover all the programs on his "hard disk" and that's kind of slow and disquieting. He mumbles incoherent things and slowly remembers people, places and bits of information. But when the reality of what had happened struck him, he was on the verge of tears and I hate to see him like that. He felt he was almost making it... it would have been two months... but no... We'll go see his epileptologist today.
I called my sister and she took care of the girls, and took them to a fashion show. My mother sells bridal gowns and she had some of her dresses on this show. I took some pics in the afternoon...

I'm a crappy blogger. I think it's a curse that I decided to start a blog in ENGLISH. I chose this language because 90% of the blogs I visit are written in English and it also gave me a chance to practice. BUT everytime I write I feel so uncertain... Am I choosing the right words?? Are they spelled correctly? Grammar mistakes??? I don't want you to tell me my writing is ok, I'm just explaining how I feel. I'll try to post something everyday, see how it works... even if it's only a photo. It's almost been two months since hubby had a seizure. That makes me kind of anxious... I forgot the whole baptising idea. I honestly can't say I believe in God, even though that would be so comforting. I was reading the Bible but I'm still stuck in the Old Testament. So I feel it would be unfair to force/induce my daughters to believe when I actually have such contradictory feelings about religion.
Lately my work hasn't been so boring. I had to go hunting with some men to write a report, and it was kind of fun... and even better, I had a chance to interview Ma.r.ja.ne Sa.tr.a.pi (I'm writing it this way just in case someone at work googles for her name and finds my silly blog). She's an Iranian cartoonist, living in France, and comes from a very liberal family. She's straightforward, looks you in the eye and can be quite intimidating. I have the feeling she says exactly what she wants and hates political correctness. I actually have her first books and it was really interesting...
Tonight we're going to a party hosted by our company... But we're like Cinderella, we'll be back home around midnight!!! (hubby is not supposed to stay up so late...)

Medieval Helpdesk...

This is too funny, you have to see it.... It's in danish with English subtitles...

Me?

Cristina speaks with a lisp. That's kind of cute. Now, everytime we walk pass a particular public advertising on the street she asks the same question: "Iz that you, mom?"

She's not old enough to be sarcastic.

"Yes, sweetheart, that's me" (should I laugh or cry??)

I'm not crazy

The psychiatrist I saw yesterday decided I'm not crazy (yet :-)) But thinks some added chemical in my life for some time, would help. So she prescribed pills. Apparently they're mild. She also wants me to talk to a psychologist too, once every two weeks or so... to my surprise, there are psychologists working in Social Security, so I won't have to pay at all, which is a big pleasant surprise because psychologists tend to be expensive. I found out some more about our mystery doctor. It seems like he's an osteopath, I talked to a couple of physicians who know him and spoke wonders of him. So it seems hubby is in good hands even if Dr Mystery is not a physician. Hubby's epileptologist said osteopathic treatment has proved effective in many cases, even though it has not been fully documented... so he told us that it's quite alright to continue seeing Dr Mystery, as long as it's a complementary thing. That does not mean he gives up on trying to find the right medication. He said for some patients it might take some time before we find the right drug...

Boring/Busy/low

Just a quick update.
Friday was family day. We all went for a family lunch along with my in-laws and other relatives on hubby's side. We were about 40 people, and I know only some of them. Somehow, I couldn't get in the "friendly-family occasions" mode, so to me the whole experience was quite boring.
Saturday was also a family day. We had our routine lunch at hubby's parents. Again, more family, and failed to set myself into "family friendly mode". Before lunch, I decided to go for a cup of coffee near our place. Alone. I don't do this quite often because I don't feel comfortable leaving the girls with hubby alone. What if he had a seizure? The five year old one could be taught to call me, but I'm not sure I should "train" her. Is a 5 year old too young to take that responsibility? Anyway, while I was reading a newspaper and sipping coffee, I decided to call H. I do that when I know he's alone. I need to know he's fine. He didn't pick up the phone. I called again. No answer. So I paid my unfinished coffee and rushed home. I arrived panting and quite scared. To find him shaving. "What, you're here alredy?" He said. "Why didn't you pick up the phone??!" I was angry and relieved at the same time. "It didn't ring", he said, defensively. We checked, and his cell phone was on "silence" mode... I need to learn not to freak out. To take things calmly. I know what I'm supposed to do if he has a seizure:
1-Stay calm
2-Prevent him from injury
3-Turn him on his left side.
4-Wait till it's over.
Somehow, I fail on number 1. Not that I scream or anything, but I have this rush of adrenaline... I get really scared. Tomorrow I'm going to see a psychiatrist! I'm not crazy (I think) but since I told my doctor I didn't want to take antidepressants so fast (I'd rather try to deal with this some other way), he referred me to a psychiatrist, to let him/her decide if I need pills or just some talking therapy... Finally, sunday was also family day, this time my folks. I didn't feel happy either.... Too many relatives for three days...

Strange...

Yesterday afternoon I walked into the kitchen and started hearing this strange noise. I thought it was an insect (a cricket??) and tried to locate the source. It led me to the pantry, in a shelf where we keep our medicines. I started pulling out boxes, the noise was coming from a box of suppositories. It was indeed strange, I opened the box, and carefully dropped the contents. I found this device inside:


I have no idea what it is and where it came from. Nor does H or the girls. Strange indeed.

Fashion dinner

I give up on Office Space. Instead, I give you a clip of my daughters, which is not the same, certainly, but at least there are no copyright issues with this one! I love the way Cristina laughs...

He had another seizure on monday. He was having lunch with some co-workers, who know he's epileptic. That was good because they knew what to do, he recovered quite fast even though the nurses in the ambulance insisted on taking him to the hospital to check, because he had hit his head (nothing bad, but they wanted to be sure). Apparently, he forgot to take his morning pill, so that might be the cause of this seizure, but I guess we'll never know for sure. There seems to be a pattern, since he has a seizure every two months (a bit less). Yesterday he went to that mystery French "doctor" along with his father (I stayed with the girls). This time, they "only" had to wait for three hours... Hubby seems to believe that Dr Mystery can be of help, so he'll be going again in late november and this time I'll be going with him. My investigation about Dr Mystery hasn't made any progress. But I'll try again. I need to know more about him.
In other news, I talked to my insensitive co-worker. She seemed to have forgotten the words she used, but admits she was mad at me. She says I've been acting strange, pushing friends away, and kind of pretending everything's ok. Anyway, two of my closest co-workers felt I was just putting some distance... and they were hurt. For some time, I just didn't feel like explaining anything. So I guess I was kind of withdrawn. Just like when my brother asked me if I was ok and I said YES. Just to shut him up.
That was long and boring, I guess. I'll leave you with some pics of our sunday picnic...





Cristina was scared of this bridge, and as you can see, she clings to her big sister...

I don't like posting pictures of me, but it's only fair, since I post pics of everyone else in my family! The three of us had our hair cut short...

Office Space: Meeting With the Bobs

Sorry, the previous clip was no longer available, as James pointed out. I found almost the same one also on You Tube...

My movies: Office Space

Ok, I don't think Office Space will be among the best films in history, but I sure had a great time watching it. Not that I can relate to this tiny bit, noooo.... ;-)

1-I've been either too busy or too lazy to blog. I'm still busy AND lazy, but here comes my latest nonsense.
People in this part of the world are debating weather it's permissible to burn the picture of our king in public. Well, not exactly debating... it all started in a peaceful demonstration of a bunch of students where I live. To show their opposition to our country having a king, they burned a big picture of him. The most conservative people in Spain were instantly outraged. Actually, it's illegal to burn the pics of king and/or his family, which I think is kind of stupid, but... Anyway, one of the students was identified, arrested and later released but the case is not closed. He'll probably have to pay a huge fine or even go to prison, who knows. BUT that sparked some more people to burn more pics king and queen. Young and old, people gathered at a popular spot in our hometown to burn the pictures chanting phrases against our country having monarchs. But it's illegal. Just like burning the Spanish flag. Not the Catalan flag, or the Andalusian one, that can be burned without facing prison. Isn't that kind of contradictory? Where I live, many people just feel they don't belong to Spain. In other parts of Spain, actually they feel we (Catalans) don't belong to Spain, and call us funny names. They say we're "polish" (from Poland) probably because it's the farthest people they could think of. Sometimes I think it would be best to just delete history. Wouldn't people get along better without a nasty past?
2-I was talking to a friend of mine who complains her boyfriend doesn't talk much. She needs to talk, and express her feelings, he doesn't. Is that a common male trait?? Do we, women, need more talking than men?... I think so. And some men just have this habit of NOT giving a hint of how they feel. Trying to make small talk with my husband, just to give you an example, can be exhausting sometimes.
His idea of chatting is talking about the huge hole they found in Mars. Which happens to be the size of a football/soccer field (according to him, which gives him the excuse to talk about his favorite sport).
3-We stayed at my mother's home last night and she read my girls a bedtime story. And she was horrified. She started with Hansel and Gretel, which is cruel and scary. So she moved to Snow White, which is not much better, and kept trying to find a "nice" one, where parents don't abandon children in forests, or eat children, or wash clothes in the river (which is absolutely strange to them), or just without wicked stepmothers or envious sisters, but couldn't find one among the classics. The Pied Piper of Hamelin, Blue Beard, all those stories, apparently, were first told to adults, in times of famine and disease, but somehow, they were passed to children...
4-So much talking about food at James' place has compelled me to post a picture of our dinner last night:
sardines with olive oil, Modena vinegar and bread with tomato spread...

PD: Feel free to print my post and burn it if you like, I won't be offended. ;-)

My husband swears he never puts any clothes WITH plastic in the drying machine...



The evidence, your honor.... (a bib)
Do you think I'd get a divorce? ;-)

PD: Cristina is having tantrum after tantrum. And not the Gandhi ones, more like... what Bush's tantrums might look like (although I hate the comparisson). Is this because school starts tomorrow???? I could always offer a deal in my divorce case: he gets Cristina, I get Alicia ;-)
he he...

My brother is a photographer. He was taking pictures of a newly wed couple and as the three of them were walking, they found this:

He told me the bride didn't run away ;-)

We had a good, busy weekend. Instead of following our usual routine (hubby's parents on saturday, my parents on sunday) we went to a small town in the mountains, played by the river... and the next day spent the morning in this tiny tiny place by the sea. There's no more than ten houses, I think... About our first visit, Alicia's concept of borders is quite unclear, because she said she prefers "this country" to our place...

I had the most unpleasant exchange with a co-worker and I still feel hurt. I thought I might just explain about our recent visit to Dr Mystery, since I had taken a day off work (I had told my boss in advance, he was most understanding and told us to do whatever we had to, not to worry). I had sent her a short text message when we arrived saying "we got home so late, we were supposed to see him at 5 but had to wait till midnight!, see you tomorrow". So I approached her this morning and started: "Our visit with the French doctor was quite an adventure..." And before I could go on she just blurted out, with a look of both contempt and anger: "Oh come on that's quackery, no physician would take a patient at midnight"... I was so surprised I just stared at her, so she continued: "you said you were going to visit a doctor, that can't be a doctor, come on..." in the most insensitive manner. She may have a point, it does sound strange, and to be honest, I don't know if he's a physician. But when you're trying to find a way out... you tend to cling to the smallest hope. And I thought it was just so cruel of her to speak like that. I didn't finish explaining. But she went on: "well, what did he say?? didn't you just come to explain?? What's going on, first you come and looks like you want to tell me and then you just stare at me... honestly Nuri, sometimes I just don't understand you..." I mumbled "I'm sorry, forget it", and left.

A scam?

We went to see the "alternative" doctor, the one my inlaws were so secretive about. We had to drive almost three hours north, into France. The sign on the door just reads "Daniel F. Kinesthesiterapie". We went up some stairs and into a small, square, poorly furnished waiting room, with just the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, eight plastic white chairs and a rectangular wooden table loaded with magazines. A toilet, a carpeted corridor with people waiting on the floor (the ones who weren't lucky enough to get a chair). Our first impression wasn't so good. This man (Dr Mystery) needs a diary, that's what I first thought but "oh, no, he just doesn't work this way", a woman in the waiting room said. No secretary, nothing. Apparently we were to wait until Dr Mystery comes out of his mysterious office, glances around and predicts how long it will take for us to be called in. He did, he looked at the friend who had brought us there (you know there's always a friend of a friend who knows that doctor that blah blah blah) and first said "no, not today, it's impossible". She didn't complain, she just looked at us and said, don't worry, he'll see us. He came out again one hour later and told us to come back in two hours. Great. Our friend said that means four hours. Even greater. That seems to be part of the mystique of this man. Apparently he had talked to our friend on the phone and told her he would see us at 5pm. But that seems to be one of his traits. You can't be sure when he'll see you. Not to mention, I still don't know if he's a doctor! So we went for a walk, came back, found some empty chairs, read, slept, talked, joked... the whole thing reminded me of a scene in Matrix, when they go to see the oracle. It looked like we were waiting for a wizard to come out and perform his miraculous cure. It was past midnight when we went into his office. He studied all the papers we gave him (CT, MRI, blood tests, everything) and he said something about hubby having too much cerebrospinal fluid. "How come his neurologist didn't say that?" I asked. "Because he didn't look for that, neurologist just look for tumors when they're trying to find causes for seizures, if there's no tumor, they don't go further", he said. ??? Well, he seems confident that he can help him control his seizures but he told us not to quit his medication, too. So we'll see. If this is a scam, it's not that good, because he doesn't charge enough. His fee is ridiculous (35 euros). His therapy is mostly cranial work (massage type). We arrived home at 5am. Somehow, we're hopeful, but also guarded. We'll go see him again in a month, but he told us to call him if hubby has another seizure... I hope NOT! I'm feeling better, I went to the doctor and he prescribed some antidepressant called "venlafaxine" but I haven't taken it. I'd rather find another route, like someone to talk to... but that's not included in our social security system. Psychiatrists are included, but not psychologists. So I can go for the cheap/chemical route (venlafaxine) or pay for a psychologist to listen to me! (the expensive/natural route.

Standard questions, standard answers...

My brother called
He- How are you?
Me- Fine
He- And hubby?
Me- Fine
He- And the girls?
Me- Fine, too.

But I'm not fine, I'm an emotional wreck. Irritable and snapping at people for nothing

Little Boxes

Here's a song for you, Job5.18 ;-) (and anyone who likes it, of course...)

Damned hospitals

Maybe we (meaning hubby and I) should pay for a private health insurance. One visit to the emergency room in my hometown is enough to realise our social security system has many many flaws. To begin with, it's usually jammed, to the point that you'll find patients waiting on stretchers or beds in corridors and halls. And tests take forever to be done. Sometimes you get pitiful evidence that this just does NOT work. Unfortunately yesterday we had to visit this wonderful hospital again, since my husband had another seizure (this time at work) and his co-workers called an ambulance, because they were quite scared. So they took blood samples again, put it in those tiny tubes and.... FORGOT to take them to the lab. So his blood just sat there for one hour until I realised it was still there and told a nurse. She apologised (said they had had a big crisis with another patient) and took the tubes. ONE HOUR later she returned and had to apologize again: the tubes had sat there for so long that the blood was no longer useful for testing so we were back at the beginning! I could have killed them. On top of that, some protocols are plain stupid, in my humble opinion. About 20 days ago hubby had his MRI. The results are at his doctor's desk, in another part of this huge building, and apparently they CANT check on them from Emergency. They just don't have access to them. So crazy, since it's the best test they had taken on him, but... no access! Will have to call his doctor on monday! I'll check about prices of private health insurances... I have one for the girls but luckily we haven't needed it so far. For check ups and routine visits we always rely on the pediatrician at Social Security. And We like him a lot. But this is entirely something else... and it makes you think, are we really in good hands?? We left the Emergency room at 2.00AM and they didn't even give him dinner!. Not to mention, at 10pm I told the nurse "should I give my husband the pills he takes at night? He always takes them at the same hour..." She said: "Let me check with the doctor" came back later and said yes. But you'd think they SHOULD know and REMEMBER to give him his pills without my telling them, right??? I hate that place. We'll do our very best NOT to go there again, I can tell you. Maybe the American TV series about hospitals have influenced me too much. You watch HOUSE and wonder if that's the type of health care Americans get! It all looks luxurious and Oh, I love it when a team of doctors go to the patient's house to check for possible causes of his disease! They check all rooms, all kinds of bottles! If I go to the doctor and complain of a bad cold or something, they'd just send me home with a prescription, but they would never ask for the keys to my home to check for a possible cause there!!!! (DO I REALLY MAKE SENSE??) I'm nervous/anxious/worried. I want his Epilepsy to be under control... why is it so hard??? (sigh*)

Randomness...

1-I'm trying hard to finish a report on songwriters/musicians/artists that perform for children. Does that have a special name in English? (Child entertainers?) I've had to read quite a bit about them, even some American singers who influenced our own artists a lot (in its genesis), such as Pete Seeger. Any thoughts?
2-We're having a couple from Estonia staying with us, a history student and his girlfriend. They came through Hospitalityclub.org. I'm a recent member of this group, since me and my husband enjoy meeting people from other countries... so far so good. They went for a walk in the old part of town and we'll meet them later for lunch...

Yesterday was Alicia's birthday. She turned 5! For the first time, we organised a small party at my parents' home and invited some of her friend and their parents. Had a picnic (my inlaws frown upon these shallow/consumist displays) and then we all went to the beach where I managed to catch more of those almost invisible fish. I thought about asking Alicia to make a wish when she was about to blow out the candles but I remembered the last time I told her to do something similar: We were at the Fontana di Trevi (in Rome), and told her to throw the coins and make a wish, so she did. She seemed to be taking it seriously, but then she looked at me and said: "I wished for you to buy me The Little Mermaid" So this time, I didn't tell her ;-)

Tales Of Mere Existence

I couldn't resist this one...
What's your advice? My mom used to lecture me like the teacher in this clip... :-)

She wants a dog.
Pros:
Company. Cute.

Cons:
Must train him not to pee in the apartment
take him for a walk everyday
take him to the vet
teach him not to bark too much
Not to chew on furniture
Not to scratch furniture
And last but not least: We'd have to pick his poo on the street (yikes)

So for now, she'll have to walk this stuffed dog. It's definately not the same but it will have to do...