Well, we made it. We are home again, just this afternoon. We have been unable to sleep at the other house, for a variety of reasons.
The other night, I got up at four thirty, to get some Ibuprofen for my very painful back, and noticed there was light coming in under the door. When I opened it, there was my father in law, sitting on the side of his bed, going through the bedside table- obviously looking for something.
I woke Ivan, and had him go put his dad back to bed, but then neither of us could go back to sleep. That, and the mattress, which is not our twelve inch multilayered foam mattress, that we have only slept on for a few weeks, (seems like only twice). So, to be out of our element, so to speak, and now, to return to our element, is nothing short of a miracle.
PLUS- my favorite sister in law has accepted doing us a favor, and is going to Walmart this weekend to buy all of the supplies we need to make our laundry soap. I cannot wait!! I use the Duggar’s liquid soap recipe, and have for years. I absolutely love it. Anyway, Mayra, my sweet, you are the best of the best. I publicly thank you from the bottom of my heart. So will our new washing machine.
I have something to confess- I find that TV series that are about ten years old are amazing. I have recently gotten hooked on “House”, which started in 2004, I believe. I tried watching it several times in the past, but House’s demeanor put me off. Now that I have gotten the “Good Doctor” bug, watching House is a piece of cake.
I enjoy watching the thought process, especially when it comes to medicine. In season one, episode four titles “Maternity”, in the House series, it shows an epidemic taking place in that hospitals maternity ward, with six newborns becoming infected, all experiencing the same symptoms. House and his “crew” of interns spend countless hours trying to figure out the cause.
The hospital administrator comes along to help out with the swabbing of all of the different delivery rooms, the sinks, respirators, everything. One baby dies, they finally decide on the correct antibiotic treatment, the others live, but they do not find the “cause”. Not until the last two and a half minutes.
House is sitting in the lobby of the hospital, watching everyone walking around and through it. He hears someone with a hacking cough, and spots an elderly woman, a volunteer from the Gift Shop, wiping her nose, then touching the small stuffed teddy bears that will be given to the birthing mothers as a gift. It shows in animation, the bacteria that she wipes from her runny nose, how it is transferred to the teddy bears, and from the teddy bear, to the newborn. Amazing.
Last time for today- wash your hands. Wash the handle on the toilets, the door knobs, etc., that people touch, but frequently forget to clean.
Wow! We have had quite a time with my father in law for the past three days! He “misplaced”, (read hid), his wallet, again, and none of us could find it.
Mind you, when he is with just Ivan and me, we have much more control over where he puts things, because we help him. I put notes on his dresser, to place his glasses and his wallet here before going to bed, notes in the bathroom, to leave his razor, and toothbrush on the counter. I put notes all over, so he does not have to try to remember where that something is, or where it should go.
We put notes up in the kitchen, so, if by some chance, he is up before me, he can find the Splenda, the coffee mugs, and, the milk for his coffee. All of them are in Spanish, so he can read them more easily.
Yes, he is losing his short term memory, but that was to be expected. In two months, he will be ninety two years old, and still is up and running, so to speak. Well, that is not true. This coronavirus has really thrown all of our “schedules” into the dirt. We will have to all start over again. Oh well. New beginnings. He is still a fairly vibrant man. We enjoy having him with us.
I read a headline recently, that stated, because of the coronavirus, handshaking may become a thing of the past. Not such a bad idea, from a health care professionals point of view.
When one stops to think, before shaking someone’s hand, where that hand has been, and what it has touched, and when, if at all, was the last time it was washed, it can make one phobic.
In an earlier post, I wrote about a saying I used to repeat, ad nauseum, I am sure, that “if you are not sure if you touched something, wash your hands. If you think you touched something, wash your hands. If you know you touched something, wash your hands”. In my former profession, as a surgical nurse, it was imperative that we washed our hands frequently. It is part of, what we call, having a “surgical conscious”. If you do not develop a surgical conscious, you will not be a very good patient care advocate. In fact, it puts your patient, at a time of the physical stress of having surgery, at a huge risk for post operative infection. Who needs that while trying to re cooperante? No one.
We used to see photos, from our nurse educator, showing how a handprint was left on a patients abdomen, by a health care professional that had just examined another patient. which had a different viral infection than the CoVid 19 virus that we are currently experiencing. That health care “professional” did not wash their hands before examining the second patient. The “handprint” was the actual infection manifested on the second patients skin.
If you do not understand how viruses, and bacteria, spread, as this coronavirus is doing, if you cannot get your brain to understand it, get on YouTube, or wherever venue you watch movies, and watch the 2011 HBO movie called “Contagion”, starring Matt Damon, and Kate Winslett. It will show you just how easily all of this happened.
Recently, I have had to produce my Iowa drivers license, several times actually, at Costco, and Sam’s, in particular. Let me explain.
When I was in the third grade, many, many, many years ago, the teachers started to teach us cursive writing. The goal being, that as we got older, our handwriting would improve, and we would be able to have a beautiful signature. I was not very good at it, but, who, at the age of seven, can write their names in cursive?
Each year, we were given a special pen, supposedly it would help us hold our pens correctly, and our penmanship was bound to improve, over time. And, it did. Each year I was able to write more legibly, and each year I was able to sign my name more clearly. How proud my parents must have been! They were finally able to read what I was writing.
Fast forward to the early part of this century, when credit card theft was starting to become a serious crime. I had been advised, by several different sources, some from our Credit Union, some fellow church members, and, some from different TV programs- all suggesting that, instead of signing the back of your credit card, it would be safer if you write “SEE ID”. That way, when you show some business your card, they have to match the signature you signed to some other piece of identification, such as your drivers license. If your card was stolen, when they had to show ID, the photo on the license would not be the same.
I thought that was a fantastic idea, and, that is what I have done, for twenty years.
Let me just say that, here, signatures are almost unrecognizable as a persons name. They are taught, at a young age, to make their signatures “unique”, something that only you would be able to duplicate. And, it is an art, let me tell you. Some are so fancy as to be almost seventeenth century, and some are just amazing.
I can see why the shop keepers do not understand why I have written SEE ID on the back of my cards. A ten year old could copy my signature. But, when Ivan explains to them the purpose of the message, and they see my signature, they smile, because they understand the problem. Anyone could copy my signature. So, to protect me, you need to check my signature with my drivers license. Period.
Some day we will have only to scan our retinas, or an ear, actually, to be identified. Those are two of the most unusual places on our bodies that are unique to us, as individuals. I read somewhere, recently, that Great Britain has, actually, started using the ear to identify people, more often than a fingerprint. Almost like it was science fiction.
We stopped by La Salón Berlín, (several weeks ago, by the time you read this), for the first time in about six weeks. Throughout the evening all of the “wait help” stopped by our table to say “hi”- even the chef, and sous chef, and both sets of musicians came over. They missed us. We have missed them, as well.
I love that place. I believe I can hear the “Cheers” opening song, playing in the background, as we walk through the door. And, that is just the way we feel. It is a bright, open, fun place to sit, relax, tell stories, or, just catch up on each other’s lives.
When we were younger, we used to go to Governors, in Moline, IL., about every other Friday nite, and got to know quite a few of the staff there, as well. But, it was too expensive, and once we moved to Bettendorf, IA., it was too far, not to mention that we had the grandkids every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday- for twelve years.
Now, here, the alcohol is much less expensive, we are retired, and do not have to get up until we want. We still only go to Berlín about every four to six weeks, and not at all since the coronavirus came to town, but we sure have fun when we do go.
Every where one looks, down here, there is a taxi, waiting to take you anywhere in the city.
Most are pink and white, easily visible through the hundreds of other cars, all going this way, and that. Each has its own identification number on it, and, those that we have used, have been fairly clean in the interior.
Most of the gentlemen that drive these taxis are of middle age, and eager to talk about what is going on in the US. One of the drivers, on a long trip to “downtown”, did not stop talking the entire way. He could not get enough of hearing about our president, the impeachment farce, the economy, anything that Ivan would tell him about. It was a joy to watch, and listen.
As I have told you before, the fares down here are incredibly inexpensive as compared to the US. We can go ten kilometers, taking about an hour plus, for only fifty pesos. That is absurd. I know that does not sound like very far, but for the time it takes, to get from a to b, it is well worth the money.
The only transportation less expensive is the Metro. That is only five pesos at the moment, but once we get our senior citizen cards, it will be free to ride wherever, and whenever we want. And, now that I have finally gotten my residency card, that has my CURP number on it, (remember, that is the number that is registered to one as a personal identification number- like our SS numbers), we can go get my drivers license, and our senior cards.
That will open up travel for us, so we can start traveling around this country, and then, on to Europe. After CoVid 19 has run its course, that is.
Not sure when all of the virus will be gone. Now I read that it is mutating, attempting to remain virulent in whatever part of the world it is inhabiting. Great!!!
There is a really good video on YouTube by RT news called “Mexico City goes quiet during pandemic”. It was just posted yesterday, April 7th. and is only three minutes long. It clearly shows what is, or more importantly, what is not going on down here. (Note: during the video, you can see the pink and white taxis driving around El Zocolo, which you will read about in an upcoming post).
Normally, all of the walkways, and streets, especially the Zocolo, or the main square, downtown, where the governmental palaces are, (the first twenty three seconds of the video are all of El Zocolo), those are usually teeming with people, from all over the world. Not for the past two weeks have their been tourists, natives, or anyone, for that matter. For the most part, people are respecting the quarantine and staying home.
I know it is hard to stay home, not go out, and think about the endless hours, and endless days that we still have, yet, to go before we can go out safely. However, we will go out safely again, as long as we take the necessary precautions now. We will get through this, eventually. A friend of mine used to say, (when we were in surgical procedures together that did not appear to have an end in sight), that there has never been a surgery that did not end. Same thing here- there has never been an epi/pandemic that did not end. Patience.
Post script- Wash your hands Roger, was from the old Lava soap commercial from the seventies.
We have been here two weeks now. I miss our condo. We were just getting into a rhythm there, walking, eating less, cleaning, and laundry.
Though we are not in our condo, we are actually proving useful over here. I have been getting up, every morning, fairly early by my estimation, and making a large pan of eggs, (usually one egg for each of us, a total of six) with various additions, (such as chorizo with diced potatoes and onions, or bacon and cheese with homemade salsa), refried beans, and coffees, both with and without caffeine. Whenever anyone has gotten up, usually between ten and twelve o’clock, I have been heating tortillas on the stove top, in the flame of the gas stove, my favorites, because the tortillas always have small amounts of burned spots, which give the tortillas a better flavor. Fortunately, those here, enjoy their tortillas the same way. Score!
I was taking a tray of food into Juan’s room, our cousin, in the morning, because that is what I have seen others do, but he told me he much preferred getting up to the table and eating there. In his room, he has to eat lying on his belly, and it is very uncomfortable for him. So, after the second day of “room service”, he came to the table, after his morning ablutions, and had his breakfast there.
The other thing we have been doing is eating only two “real” meals a day. We have breakfast, which, as I said, is usually more brunch than anything, and then dinner, around five or five thirty. Tonight, I made frijoles negros (black beans, in the Instant Pot, OMG!), white rice, and tacitos, here they are called flautas, or “flutes”. I made a dozen flautas of pork, (and you now how I make the pork), and a half dozen from chicken.
I make decaf coffee in the evening, and serve los dos Juanes a light snack before they finish watching their “noticias”, or the news. Since they are not able to walk right now, or, not much, I feel that if they eat two “real” meals during the day, they only need a light snack in the evening. As my F-I-L loves his coffee, he can have the decaf, plus some light cookies, and enjoy himself, without worry of staying up all night, or gaining weight. Win, win.
Yesterday, again, I did two loads of laundry, and, will attempt another load tomorrow. That will give me something to do in this seclusion. Plus, the new washer and dryer work so well, it is not a chore. Plus plus, when I open the door to the rooftop, and see the gorgeous jacaranda tree in bloom, it is sheer joy. I know that sounds crazy, but I have always been a laundry girl. The satisfaction of taking piles of dirty clothes to the laundry area, which used to be in the dungeon, and make all of that into clean, wearable clothing again- marvelous.
We have been trying to make our “going out” as infrequent as we can, but, we do, on occasion, as you have read here, go out to the major stores only, Costco, Sam’s Club, and Soriana. Remember, the other day when we went to Sam’s Club, everyone that went into the store had to have a SC card!!! We can get everything we need at those three stores. Except eggs. No one has eggs on the shelf. I am close to panic mode here folks, because we eat eggs every morning.
Stay happy, stay healthy, STAY HOME. Wash your hands Roger. Ten gold sovereigns to anyone who can tell me what commercial, from the seventies, the underlined line came from.
Post script- not going home until Easter Sunday, or the day before. P&P are shut up, really, in their sons apartment in Saltillo. They have not been allowed out of their sons apartment since they arrived there two weeks ago. The entire city is shut down, actually. Amazing. We, too, are supposed to stay home, but it is not like that in the suburbs. Many people, ourselves included, are, for the most part, going about our daily lives. Fortunately for us, that does not require us to leave here very often. When we do, we wash our hands, wash our hands again, and then again, when we get home.
Post script two- I am going to try to upload of a photo of my right arm, from this afternoon. Just curious as to what these f***ing bugs eat when I am not around?
Hah! They look even worse tonight. They are weeping, itching, then, becoming painful. The top one, now, is about the size of a quarter, and the bottom, the size of a large nickel. The one at my elbow, that you have not seen, is also the size of a nickel. The first week we were here, I woke up to three of these, two on my left ankle and one on my right. In the past week, I have, yet again, awakened to five of these, this time, on the right side of my body, two on my right buttock, and two on my right thorax and one on my shoulder. I cannot stand much more of these. They are driving me crazy(ier).
Quite a bit of México adheres to the Catholic religion, as most of the world knows. There is, however, a lather large population that are Jewish, as well. For some reason, I did not even consider this.
Driving around the city we have noticed some of the most beautiful churches, cathedrals, and synagogues. There are more Catholic Churches, and cathedrals, and most are very old, and large.
We have only gone into one of the cathedrals, and, that is in the middle of the colony called Coyoacán, about five kilometers from our condo. That, if you remember, is the colony where Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera lived. It is my favorite place to walk, eat, and shop.
Inside it, one can see all of the things one would expect to see in a beautiful old cathedral- the decorative gold pieces, the stations of the cross, all done in magnificent old world splendor. The murals throughout are elegant, and huge, still bright with color. The ceiling is something out of a movie. It gives one the feeling of peace, and tranquility when walking through it.
On the other side of town, there is a beautiful, modern church that we pass each time we go to, and, from Sam’s Club, and Costco. When you drive past, at a specific angle, you are able to see through the windows,, into the church, at all of the beautiful stained glass, in the front of the church. It must be the welcoming sight that the parishioners see whenever they worship there. Absolutely gorgeous.
That said, there are not as many churches here as one would expect. I guess I, myself, expected more than I have seen. A bit of admitted cultural ignorance on my part. I am learning new things every day. I know- it is about time. 🙂
