Well, thanks to Paty, I survived the horrendous bout of diarrhea. She got back in town Sunday, saw the condition I was in, went to the pharmacy, and bought me a box of Nifuroxazida 200 mg combined with Metronidazol 600 mg, an antibiotic specifically for enteritis. She told me to take them twice a day for 4 days, so I am. This is the start of day 3, and I must say, it is doing the job rather nicely.
Yes, we made it to the Embassy, and, yes, I was able to fix, for the most part, what I needed help fixing regarding a few SS issues. My “appointment” was 8am -11am, however, unbeknownst to us, the Embassy does not open until 8:30am. So, from the house here, we, (Enrique drove us), had to drive North, to downtown CDMX, which, with all of the other early commuters, is a good hours drive. We left the house at 6:30am, arriving at the Embassy at 7:30am. We parked the car in a nearby parking garage, and walked a block, or two, to the front door of the building. We were then told to show our papers to the “people under the green umbrella, at the end of the building”. Did I mention that everything was in Spanish. At the US Embassy?
At the green umbrella, we were asked why were there, what department did we need. Responding with “Social Security”, a young man told us to go to the end of some line, and indicates a line to my husband, already 20 ft. long, or more. Of course, he is in no mood to stand in a line behind people that are sitting, and appear to have been doing so, for quite some time. He says that we will stand in the line that is actually moving, the two of them have “words”, but we continue to stay where he put us. He was, once again, told we were in the wrong line, and, after more words in which he indicated that this was the US Embassy, and that we are US citizens, and that if we are not allowed in with the next group of people, he would consider making it an “emergency”, (the only way you can even hope to just walk into an Embassy is if it is an emergency), and then we would be allowed in immediately. (The lady ahead of us turned, and gave him a show of her approval- all he ever needs). After about 15 seconds, we were issued little blue 2”x 2” tickets, with some silly numbers on it, and in we went.
Of course, you have to go through the usual security check in, just like at any government building, depositing everything into a tub that gets run through a scanner. (I forgot I had brought my knife, a 3”blade Ivan gave me some time in the past. I almost always have in my purse, but I always have it with me when we go downtown. A person cannot be too careful!) They gave us an ID badge to wear, and a card with a number on it corresponding to the number on the torn Ziplock bag were we were told to deposit our keys, phones, and my knife. They told us what room to go to, so off we went.
We sat in the waiting area about 2 minutes, when a very nice lady called my name, and in I went. A few minutes passed, and a gentlemen from the Embassy came in the room, and asked me for the aforementioned card for our belongings. He told me that my husband needed to get something out of it, so I gave it to him, giving it little thought. A little over 1 hour later, I was done.
Reunited with my husband, we left the facilities, on our way to find our friend Enrique, who was waiting in the lounge of the hotel next door. As we were having a lovely cup of coffee, he told me that the guards wanted him to take the knife out of the Embassy, so he took it to the hotel, and gave it to Enrique to hold. After everything, it was another hours drive home, then back to bed for a bit. I kid you not, here it truly is the survival of the fittest.