Escape to Portugal

www.guardian.co.uk

Because we stayed so close to the airport, we "slept in" until 5:00 a.m.  We actually managed to get up and going fairly efficiently, considering the hour.  We were checked out and ready to go just a little past 6:00.  Unfortunately, the snow hadn't let up all night and there was a nice covering of the stuff all the way up to the airport.  I really wasn't too excited about sitting on a cold airplane with wet feet, so I went into the bathroom and snagged some of the extra garbage bags from the corner.  I tied them around my feet over my sneakers to prevent some of the water from getting in.  And to make a fashion statement, obviously.  Scott commented that it was an improvement over my normal attire, although the other people we passed by didn't quite seem to have the same opinion.

Regardless of their fashion, the bags served their purpose and my feet were only slightly damp by the time  arrived at the terminal.  As I peeled the bags off, Scott did some reconnaissance to see where we needed to go to get our tickets.  We'd already checked in and were only bringing carry-on baggage, but we would still have to wait in line because we don't have a printer at home to print the tickets.  I'm actually almost tempted to buy a printer just to avoid the hassle of waiting in line at airports!  It would totally be worth it.  Especially because just as we got into the hideously long line, we heard an announcement over the loudspeaker saying that it was the last call for our flight!  Granted, it was an international flight so we probably should have arrived more than an hour before boarding, but last call at 6:20?!

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There was no way we were going to get to the front of the line anytime soon, so Scott left the line to go ask for help at the ticket counter.  Luckily, the staff are apparently used to lots of traveler arriving late and having similar panic situations.  In fact, there was a special check-in line designed especially for those travelers.  We rushed to join that line, willing it to move quickly as we heard the repeated "last call" for our flight.  As soon as the agent gave us our tickets, we ran to security and were once again faced with a mile-long line.  This time, there wasn't any "fast-track" service, so we just had to grit our teeth and hope we made it.  As we stood in line we started to organize the things that needed to be taken out or put in bags (electronics and liquids).  As we did, Scott reaching into the bottom of his bag and realized that he had forgotten to take out his multi-tool before packing for the trip!  For those of you unacquainted, a multi-tool is basically just a bunch of knives and other sharp objects all tacked together.  Not such a good thing to try to bring into an airport, especially if you're planning on getting anywhere fast.

I know that some airports have last minute mail services near security, so I was hoping that we might just be able to mail it home.  I did a quick scan, but didn't see anything in the vicinity.  We showed it to the guard in the corner of the room.  He let us keep it for the moment, but warned us that it probably wasn't going to be able to go much further.  When we got to the x-ray, Scott showed it to the security agent to see what options he might have.  He didn't have any, so was forced to hand it over before going through the machine.  But at least we got to leave our shoes on!

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We got through security by about 7:10, which is the time that our tickets said that the gate was closing.  Hoping that my watch was a little fast, we ran as fast as we could to our gate.  We were welcomed by a massive gathering of about 100 other people who probably had also made a mad dash to the gate after hearing the "last call."  Apparently those calls they'd been giving out for the past half hour had merely been a suggestion, because the door to the waiting area for the gate hadn't even been opened yet.  So glad we nearly ran down an old crippled lady in our quest to get there on time.  It actually turned out pretty well that we were at the back of the line, because the waiting area was no more than a covered area right next to the runway--not the most comfortable place to stand around and wait when it's snowing.  Because of our tardiness, we were some of the last people ushered in and only had to endure it for about 15 minutes.

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Not to say that I was too excited about those 15 minutes, either, but I suppose I'm glad it wasn't any longer. When we finally did make it to the airplane (around 8:00, 20 minutes after the scheduled departure time), we looked at our tickets to see that we would be seated towards the back of the plane.  And by "towards the back" I mean "the absolute last row right next to the bathrooms."  And of course we were in the window and middle seat.  I'm usually pretty OK with small places, but the one exception to that is on airplanes, where I always insist on being in the aisle.  I usually manage to reserve one but if not, the plane often has extra seats that I can move to once we're in the air.  Not today.  At least the person sitting next to me was very respectful and even offered to let me use the armrest!  Now that is chivalry at 30,000 feet!

Luckily for our seatmate, he got to have the armrest and even a little bit extra butt room, because I leaned over and slept on Scott's shoulder for nearly the whole trip.  Except for the last half hour or so, during which time I decided to try a new game on my iPod called "Temple Run."  It is the most addictive game ever; you've been warned!  It was a little difficult to catch on to the rules (because reading the instructions would have been too easy), and of course just as I figured it out was when the captain made the landing announcement and we had to power down all electronics.

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The landing was much more efficient than boarding and take-off, and we headed right inside to customs.  Usually, being the foreigner means longer lines and more questioning at the border, but this time it was actually an advantage being a non-EU citizen!  There was one line for EU and UK passport holders, and one line for "everyone else."  Luckily for us, it was only us and one other couple that qualified as "everyone else," so we got right to the front of the line.  The lady barely even looked at our passport before stamping it and waving us through.  I was so excited to have my first European stamp in this passport!  I am a little disappointed that all the European stamps are now basically the same since becoming part of the EU but, oh well.  I'll continue collecting anyway.

After getting through the border, we headed straight out to the transportation area.  I hadn't really researched the best way to get to our hotel, but I did know that it was supposed to be fairly close to a metro stop.  We decided to find a map and try to find our way to the nearest metro, hoping that there wouldn't be too many busy roads to cross to get there.  Luckily for us, it turns out they had just built a new metro stop right inside the airport!  Plus, the tickets were electronic so we could buy a reusable card that could be used all on modes of transportation during our entire stay.  We did have a little trouble buying the ticket from the electronic kiosk, until we discovered that there was a button to translate everything into English.  Amazing how much easier that made things!

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The airport was at the far north of the city, while our hotel was at the southernmost end.  We also had to transfer lines once, so it took us about 45 minutes to get to our stop.  Luckily, we got to have our pick of seats since we had gotten on at the first stop of the line.  We got off at metro Baixa-Chiado (easy to remember, since the name of our hotel was "Borges Chiado").  After going up what seemed an infinite number of floors--thank goodness for escalators--we finally emerged into a large, bustling square.  The directions I had gotten to our hotel weren't very specific, so we walked around to the other side of the exit to see if we could find a map with a more precise location.  Unfortunately, the dispaly that we had believed to be a map was empty.  So, like the confused tourists that we are, we just looked around like deer in the headlights.  This actually turned out to be quite a good strategy, as it turned out that our hotel was just across the square!

It was just a few minutes until noon, so we figured that it would be the perfect time to check in and start exploring.  Of course, the first thing on our mind was lunch.  Being the "economical" travelers that we are, we hadn't eaten breakfast because it wasn't free at the hotel, and there also weren't any snack provided on the airplane.  There was quite a crowd in the lobby, so we ended up waiting about 15 minutes before we managed to grab anyone's attention.  When we finally did, we were told that check-in time actually wasn't until 1:00 p.m., so we would have to do something else until that time.  They did let us leave our bags in a locked closet so that we didn't have to much to carry, at least.  

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We decided to use the time to go out in search of something to quench our appetites.  There were a few cafes right next to the hotel, but we wanted to be a bit more adventurous so we headed up the big hill to our right and down a small cobblestone street on our first Portuguese adventure.  There were quite a few tourists at the plaza from where we'd come, but as we moved further down the narrow street, we noticed a change in the ambiance.  There were decidedly fewer foreigner accents, and many more "regular" people just going about their daily activities.  We walked past a small restaurant with all sorts of fresh fish on display in the window.  Scott was a little unsure at first, but we took a quick glance at the menu and, with our elementary grasp of Portuguese combined with some educated guessing, we surmised that there were at least a few non-fish options and that the prices were fairly reasonable.

We ventured inside and used hand gestures to indicate that we wanted a table for two.  That was our first indication that this was going to be a good meal--no one spoke English! We muddled through the menu for a few minutes before the waiter realized our difficulties and brought us an international menu.  He tried to speak to us in German, but when that didn't work out, he reverted back to handle signals.  Apparently, we don't look very American, because this was only the first of many instances in which someone would first attempt to speak to us in German.  Maybe I should have chosen a different language in high school!

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Although some of the translations on the English menu were a bit strange, we cross-referenced between the Portuguese and Spanish translations to get the best idea of what it was we were ordering.  Scott ending up getting a meat platter with pork and liver, while I got a traditional Portuguese dish made with corvina.  I wasn't really sure what that was, but I knew I wanted something Portuguese and the waiter assured me that that was a good choice.  Good thing I was really hungry, because corvina is apparently a giant fish (the best translation in English is "seabass," although I don't think it's exactly the same).  The dish I got was a stew of sorts made of potatoes and vegetables in a tomato sauce, with a huge slab of this giant fish plunked right on top.  It was served in something similar to a casserole dish, with a bowl on the side to dish the portions into.  I was told that it was a single-serving portion, but I'm pretty sure that this "single" they're talking about is a 300-pound Portuguese fisherman.  Normally, Scott helps me finish any extra portions of food that I can't get to, but he is really anti-fish.  He did brave one (very tiny) bite, declared it "very fishy," and refused to look at it anymore.  I'm proud to say that I ate the whole thing but two potatoes all by myself!  I'd forgotten my camera at the hotel, but this picture from another website gives you an idea of what the dish was.  Just multiply that by about 6 servings.  Yum!

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After lunch, we waddled back to our hotel to check in.  The receptionists were much more attentive this time, and we were sent up to our room in no time.  We were on the third floor, and after walking down what seemed like endless corridors, we found our room towards the back of the hotel.  Apparently, the hotel was made by combining four or five different buildings all into one giant one, so some of the halls were somewhat labyrinthine.  We did eventually find our room, though, and were pleasantly surprised to see a large window that could let in the warm sunshine.  Upon opening it, we realized that we had a wonderful view of... the wall of the other side of the building.  This ended up working to our advantage, though, because the outside rooms all faced right onto the busy street and were quite noisy at all hours of the night.  While we didn't get our beautiful view, we did get quite a bit of sunshine and definitely appreciated the peace and quiet at night.  We unpacked our stuff and relaxed for a few minutes before heading out into the "warm" weather (50° F!) to explore our surroundings.

Half Term Travels

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So after about three days in "sunny" England, I decided that was just about enough of that and it was time to start looking for a more temperate climate.  Luckily, Scott's school was letting out for half term during the second week of February, so I didn't have to wait long.  The only problem was that there are so many awesome places to visit so nearby, we didn't know how to narrow it down!  Scott graciously let me have the honors of finding the ideal location, so the first thing I did was sign up for as many discount travel sites as possible.  This only served to magnify the conundrum, as I was now receiving almost hourly updates on the new *amazing* deals to some exotic location, but only if I bought the tickets right now!  So, I did the most logical thing in this situation: I randomly clicked on a link to see where it would take me.

This particular link took me a to a deal with for a week in Portugal.  I didn't know much of Portugal and never really had too much of an interest to learn more, but the price was good (and the weather was forecast to be pretty nice), so I asked Scott what he thought about going.  To my surprise, he was very enthusiastic; apparently, he had always wanted to go to there!  So, I booked the deal and got to daydreaming about the nice, warm weather.

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Because we got the tickets for such a good price, they departure flight was from a different airport than the return flight.  The return flight came in to Gatwick, one of the two major London airports, so I wasn't too worried about finding transportation from there.  The outgoing flight, however, left from "Luton Airport," which neither Scott nor I had ever heard of.  Luckily, we found a company that runs shuttles from Cambridge to all the London area airports.  At £15 per person for the ride, I thought the fare was a bit steep, but Scott told me that the U.K. is known for having expensive transportation because it is not run or subsidized by the government as it is most countries.  This has been somewhat of an adjustment from me, coming from Chile where I could travel halfway across the country for $30, moving to the U.K. where that money might get me as far as London (if I can find a discount fare).

Our flight to Lisbon was schedule to leave Luton at 7:40 on Monday morning., so to avoid the hassle of getting lost and possibly missing the infrequent early morning buses from our house, we booked a room at the airport hotel.  The website said it was only a ten minute walk away from the terminals, so we could get some extra sleep and just head over by foot in the morning.  Theoretically, this was a good plan.  We relaxed and got some household chores done on Sunday, and went into Cambridge around 5:00 to catch the shuttle.  We found the bus stop easily enough, but had some trouble finding the right bus to get on.  We tried to ask one of the bus drivers, but she looked confused and told us "that bus doesn't usually leave from here," and suggested we go to the main terminal.  We were fairly certain that our tickets were for the stop that we were at, so we went to look at the route map just to make sure.  Sure enough, Luton was on the list.  We figured that maybe the driver was new to this route or something, so we went to ask another driver.

He too gave us an odd look and told us that we should probably go to the other terminal.  Confused, we pulled out the electronic text message we had received as out ticket and showed it to him.  After wading through the garbled mess that occurs when you use a standard phone to receive smartphone messages, he finally found the actual message, and a light bulb went on in his head.  "Oh," he said, "you're going to Luton!" Scott and I looked at each other, befuddled--isn't that what we'd been saying all along?!  We expressed this to the driver, who told us that we had been asking for London!  Apparently, Luton should be pronounced with a long "u" sound, whereas we had been using a short "u" sound.  This, combined with our highly exotic American accents, produced some confusion. 

smh.com.au

With the help of the second driver, we eventually figured things out.  He helped us decipher the text message tickets and told us that we had actually purchased a later trip, scheduled to leave at 8:30 p.m.  It was only just 6:00 at the time, and we really weren't looking forward to waiting outside in the cold for another two and a half hours.  Luckily, the driver was very accommodating, and agreed to let us on to his earlier shuttle.  We were especially grateful for his generosity when we looked out the window ten minutes later and saw that it had begun to snow significantly!  By the time we got near the airport about an hour later, there was a good couple inches of snow on the ground.  Turns out, a ten minute walk seems significantly longer when you're wearing "breathable" sneakers.  It also didn't help that we started out on the other side of the road and walked halfway to the hotel before we realized we wouldn't be able to cross the street and had to backtrack back to the airport again.

But we finally made it to the hotel and got checked it.   We were very grateful for the fact that each room had its own heater, and took full advantage.  We settled into the room, got out of our wet clothes, and just huddled up next to the heater for a while.  Eventually, hunger won out so we went to the lobby restaurant to grab a quick dinner.  Scott had an authentic English pie and I had some (probably also English) fish.  We also shared some cider (yes, we're lightweights and can only handle one pint between the two of us).  We then headed up to our room to get some rest and hope that the snow would let up before our flight the next morning.  

"Welcome to Sunny England!"

... that's the first thing that Scott said to me when he came to pick me up at the airport.  Which, incidentally, happened almost two hours later than it was supposed to.  Because the entire country was in the middle of a freak snowstorm that delayed/stopped most modes of transportation for more than a week.  They'd actually only re-opened the airport a few hours before I arrived!  Somehow, I wasn't quite convinced of this whole "Sunny England" thing.  And I must say, it hasn't done much of a job convincing me in the past two weeks either.  It was sunny yesterday, and I was actually a little confused when I first woke up before I realized what it was!  But at least the mountains of snow have melted...!

When I first arrived, the first thing I noticed was all the snow!  There was more of the stuff here than I had left at home in Wisconsin!  And I distinctly remember being told (multiple times!), "oh, don't worry; it hardly ever snows in Cambridge!" I was also told that it rarely gets below freezing, too.  So imagine my shock when we got nearly a foot of snow on my first day in the country, and spent the rest of the week at about freezing temperatures.  Some welcome that was!  But it is really going to make me appreciate the spring when it comes.  Again.  I feel like I've been experiencing more than my fair share of winters lately...

So far, I've mostly been stranded at or near our house.  First of all, I didn't realize how difficult it would be to buy water-proof boots in a country that is famous for its precipitation!  This made it difficult to go anywhere during the first week because I only have my "breathe-easy" sneakers, which aren't really the best for walking in snow.  I did come up with the ingenious plan to wrap a plastic bag around my feet before inserting them into the shoes.  This actually worked quite well in fending off the cold and wet.  Plus, maybe I've started a new fashion trend!  Especially the day when I wore different-colored bags with the handles poking out of my pants.

We tried to go into Cambridge the first Sunday I was here (I arrived on Saturday the 19th), but that was the day of the big snowstorm and all the buses were cancelled.  Unfortunately, we didn't bother to look that up before going out to the bus stop, and ended up sitting out in the cold for nearly 45 minutes before deducing the truth.  Scott was insistent on showing me something, though, so we walked the 15 minutes to the nearest town, Abington, so that we could pick up some supplies from the little convenience shop there.  It's actually two towns, Great Abington and Little Abington that is collectively known as "The Abingtons."  Together, they have a population of almost 1,400.  Apparently the division dates back 4,000 years, and who are we to change it now?  I haven't seen much of the town, but from what I have seen, it looks very charming.  Quaint even.

My favorite part of these little towns in England is that there are hardly any house numbers.  Nope, we're too good for that--each house has its own name!  Most of them are named for the original owner or initial purpose of the building.  For example, the houses nearby to us have names like "The Windmill," and "The Old Bakery."  Our house was actually originally built as groundskeepers' quarters for a large country estate, known as "Hildersham Hall."  The estate is still there, although the associated land has diminished over the years.  There's still enough to have a good-sized herd of sheep, though!  They do make good neighbors.  Our house is situated at the southern-most end of the grounds, and is therefore called "South Lodge."  There is now a small town on the other side of the grounds named, would you guess, "Hildersham."

Last weekend it actually warmed up and the snow all melted, so we managed to do a little bit more exploring.  We walked through Hildersham (which has a population of around 200 and consists primarily of a church and a pub), and continued on the country road until we reached the next village, Linton.  This is the "big" town in the area, with a population of nearly 4,500.  They even have a full-scale grocery store!  Well, it's actually a co-operative, which turns out to be much better because the prices are good and the food is fresh (and often organic).  On our visit, we picked up some ingredients to make pizza (we didn't realize at the time that we didn't have a rack in the oven yet, but we got creative and it all worked out in the end).

We even got to spend the day in Cambridge (finally) on Saturday!  It was the warmest day since I arrived, although the sun still didn't really want to show his face.  Scott wanted to show me as many of the sites as possible, so he took a very convoluted route through the city.  As a result, I am thoroughly confused as to where anything is.  Except the candy store.  I can absolutely tell you where the candy store is.  It's right next to the round church, obviously!  I've taken some photos of the places, but I'm not very pleased with them.  We're planning to go back again this weekend, so I'll see if I can get some better shots.

While the weather was warmer than it had been, it was still pretty cold.  I was bundled up in an undershirt, long-sleeve t-shirt, sweatshirt, and coat.  It worked well enough until the wind started to come or until we got into the shade.  We first stopped at a market that is held daily in the center of town (is it called a square, or do I just want English cities to be like Spanish ones?).  The market is huge and there are vendors of all sorts--crafts, clothing, food; there was even a bicycle repair shop set up in one of the tents!  Scott's favorite stands were the cheese shop and the sauce shop.  There were samples of all sorts of different sauces.  We held back and only bought two kinds--a spicy red tomato pesto, and a more mild traditional pesto.  That was less than a week ago, and they're already pretty much gone.

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The most exciting part of the day for me, however, was going to the bike shop!  We can't really afford a car right now, so the next best thing is a bike.  Actually, a bike might be better than a car, especially in Cambridge!  There are so many bikes in the city that they are literally chained right on top of each other.  With so many options, I was amazed to find the perfect bike in the first place we looked.  It's used, but in excellent condition.  It even comes with a basket, back carrier, and a lock!  The only thing is that I won't be able to get it until this Saturday.  We're still working on finding a safe route to bike from our house to Cambridge (it's about 17 miles), but it will be great to have a fast way to get around between the little towns around here.  I'm so excited!

Anyways, I just heard Scott come through the gate on his bike, so I guess I'd better go make final dinner preparations.  We're having curry!!!

Here We Go Again...

I’ve gotten behind on my blog updates, but what else is new?  Hopefully I can fill you in on our trip to Pucon soon, although you might not get every juicy detail like you’re used to (due to the fact that it’s been a while since the trip, and also the fact that my notebook with all the notes to help me remember said details is currently smooshed between some couch cushions at my parents’ house in Wisconsin).  Hey, at least I got the Facebook photos uploaded!

Well, right now I am once again sitting in an airport waiting for my next adventure.  I must say, though, that this is by far the most elegant terminal I’ve ever been to.  I arrived to Minneapolis from La Crosse at around 4:30, and my flight to London doesn’t leave until almost 10:00, so I’ve got a bit of time to kill.  Luckily for me, I get to wait in the newly-remodeled “G” terminal!  A small section of the waiting area is “normal,” in that it has a few rows of traditional row seats lined up against the wall.  The rest of the waiting area is taken up by small 1-2 person booths and larger bar-style tables, each with a comfortable white leather chair and an individual iPad for each seat!  There is also a snack bar in the corner, but you don’t even have to get up from your seat—just select a picture of your favorite food from the menu on your iPad, and it will be delivered fresh to your table within 15 minutes!  I was almost tempted to try it out, but the luxury is definitely one that you must pay for.  A small, plain coffee here at the gate goes for nearly $4.  Walk a few feet to the entrance of the terminal and get a “fancy” coffee for just over $2!  Of course you know which option I chose!

It’s currently 6:15 pm, and I’m already pretty hyped up on caffeine.  I had two cups of it this morning before leaving, too!  Now, with the addition of my “fancy” coffee, I’m hoping that the combination of insane amounts of caffeine and sugar will lead to a great crash in about 4 hours or so (just the time I’ll be settling in for my transatlantic flight).  Of course, this plan could totally backfire and I’ll just be wired the entire 9 hours, too.  Luckily, I’m pretty sure there are power outlets on the plane, so that just means I get to spend more time with you lovely people!

There’s actually not free wi-fi in this section of the airport (they want you to use the iPads and be tempted by all the pictures of delicious food that they have strategically placed in the background of all your favorite websites).   I finally figured out how to change the date/time on my blog posts, though, so you won’t even know that I wasn’t publishing on the spot!  Well, I guess except for the fact that I just told you.

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Since Mauricio showed it to me a couple months ago, I have been completely addicted to Foursquare!  Unfortunately, I’m a little bit behind the times and only had a second generation iPod—it was so old, in fact, that I couldn’t even update the programs anymore!  I did manage to download the app, but it was pretty glitchy.  Luckily for me, I managed to convince Mom to trade me for her (slightly newer but still not cutting edge) generation four iPod.  She mostly uses hers to play “Angry Birds,” and was super excited to see that I had unlocked about 9 different themes for the game.  I’d say we both came out ahead in the switch.  Actually, I probably came out a bit better, because there is nothing quite as entertaining as watching Mom play “Angry Birds.”  She really lets it live up to its name!

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Anyways, back to Foursquare.  Now that I’ve gotten a new iPod that is more reliable, I’ve been checking in constantly!  It has taken me a while to learn how to see information on a place without checking in—there was one interesting blunder during that learning process in which I checked in at a strip club!  And of course all of the check-ins are published publicly to Facebook.  I wonder what my students thought of that one… It’s all part of the intrigue, I suppose!  I’m so addicted to Foursquare that I’ve already checked in to 6 different places here in the airport.  I would check in to more, except that because I have a lowly iPod (and not an iPhone that can connect to the internet anywhere), I can only check-in at places that have or are near to free wi-fi connections.  I know, that is so 2007!  (Can you tell that I’ve had a bit more coffee than usual today?).

I’m actually not really sure why I’m writing a blog post right now.  Mostly to tell you how cool this terminal is.  Also because I’ve had more caffeine in the past 8 hours than I normally do in an entire week.  I would say both are equally valid reasons.  But alas, I must now leave you for the time being.  The little ladies’ room is calling my name.

Changes Coming?

As you may have heard from me over the years, glasses/contacts really annoy me.  I remember when I was first told that I needed glasses at age 8--I ate only carrots for about two weeks, hoping that my eyes would miraculously improve and I could forgo the glasses.  Unfortunately, the eye-health properties of carrots may be somewhat overrated, so a week after my initial eye exam, I was fitted for my first pair of glasses.  At first, my prescription was pretty low so I tried to get away with not wearing the glasses.  I was finally convinced that I really needed them when I went on a road trip with some other kids in my class.  We played "the alphabet game" to pass the time, and I didn't manage to get one letter in the whole 2-hour drive.  After that, I finally accepted the sad truth that I would be wearing glasses for the rest of my life.

I did think I caught a break in 7th grade when my optometrist cleared me for wearing contacts.  I was excited at first, but I quickly learned that contacts weren't necessarily better than glasses.  Apparently, my eyes are actually smaller in size than average, and I have a tendency towards dry eyes.  These two things combined make it difficult to keep contacts in my eyes, especially after a long day or during dry weather.  It definitely got annoying losing and throwing out so many ripped contacts--I could almost see my money going down the drain with them.  I was pretty much resigned to the fact that I'd be dealing with annoying glasses and contacts forever.

Ever since I learned of its existence, I've wanted to get LASIK surgery.  I looked into a little bit when I heard about it in high school, but put it on the back burner when I learned that the average cost is over $2,000 per eye.  I also heard that some of the most common side effects are dry eyes and halos at night, problems that I already dealt with and certainly didn't want to make any worse.  I once again resigned myself to the fact that it would probably never actually happen, and did my best to make the most of life with contacts.  Every couple of years I would re-check prices and side effects, but they didn't change much.

Then, in November 2012 on a whim, I emailed the vision center at Gundersen Lutheran to get some more information.  I knew that I would only be in La Crosse for a little over three weeks, and really didn't expect much more than the generic FAQ answers that I usually find on the internet.  But I sent my schedule anyway, just to see.  The very next day I received a reply from Dianne, telling me that they had a space open for the surgery if I could come in on the certain days that they reserved for me. She also needed a decision quickly, so that she could give the appointment times to someone else if I didn't want them.  I was shocked--I hardly expected a response at all, much less the offer for surgery in only a couple weeks!  Plus, I was nearing the end of my tenure in Chile, so wouldn't have the income to pay for the expensive surgery.

I immediately called my parents and told them about it.  They were very supportive, and encouraged me to go for it!  They even offered to loan me some money so that I could pay for it all at once (and not accrue interest on making payments).  Even still, I was a bit hesitant to reply, thinking about all the possible side effects that I'd heard about it.  I spent a couple days gathering stories from friends who had had it done, and the overwhelming consensus was that I should go for it.  So, I sent an email to Dianne letting her know that I would come in for the consult on December 28.   That's when I really started to get nervous.  One word of advice: NEVER Google videos of the surgery you are about to have, no matter how strong of a stomach you think you have!

Meeting the (Host) Family

After quite an eventful Monday night, Laura and I finally managed to fall asleep just as the hot summer sun started to peak through my very thin curtains.  And even though I didn't have to go to work, the rest of the city did, so traffic started to pick up and get noisy around 7:00 a.m.  I managed to stay in bed until about 9:00 before it just all became too much for me and I had to get up.  I went to the kitchen to make coffee.  Laura was still sleeping soundly when I passed, so I just grabbed my computer and got back in bed with my coffee and surfed the web for a while.  I still had a few things to do for the end of the semester, so I spent a few hours doing that before Laura got up around 11:00. She probably could have slept longer, except that the phone rang.  It was my apartment manager, telling me that he was in the building and would be by with the sheets in 20 minutes or so.

Laura's pain had gone down significantly, but she was still really tired out from fighting it all night (and the nights before).  We'd been invited out to dinner by my previous host family, but we hadn't given a definite answer yet, just to make sure Laura would be up to it.  It was a really nice day out (as far as Santiago goes, at least).  We decided to take advantage of the clear skies and slightly cooler weather to explore a little bit near my apartment.  By the time we got ready and had breakfast, it was more than an hour after the manager had promised to come by with the sheets.  I figured he might have gotten caught up with another tenant, so I gave him a call to remind him.  He told me he wouldn't be able to drop it off for another hour or so.  Laura and I didn't really want to wait that long, so he agreed to leave the sheets with the concierge so that we could pick them up on our way back.

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With high hopes of returning to a bed with sheets, we headed out into town.  We didn't want to venture too far away, just in case Laura's symptoms started to return.  Laura really enjoys architecture, so I tried to think of some places in Santiago that might have some interesting buildings to check out.  I really couldn't think of any, so we just headed towards Santa Lucia Market to scope out some souvenirs/ Christmas gifts.  Our first stop was at London Cafe for some fresh-blended juice.  According to Laura, good juice is hard to come by in Argentina.  Maybe we should have traded places--I could go to Argentina for the coffee and she could come to Chile for the juice!  Though I'm not usually much of a juice fan, there is a lot to be said for fresh-made!  I got strawberry/melon and Laura got mango/strawberry.  They were perfectly sweet, even without any added sugar!

We took a short walk through the stalls at the market, but decided not to buy anything since it was only the first day.  Besides, we were going south the next day, and were looking forward to checking out the hand-made gifts that are famous in that region!  Across the street from the market, Laura pointed out a very beautiful building that I pass by quite often but usually overlook.  She asked what it was, and I told her that it was the National Library.  Even after 9 months living so close to it, I'd never gone inside.  We decided to check it out, and entered through the grand front entrance.

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There was a tour group meeting just inside, and we stopped to listen for a while.  They were talking about politics and were apparently waiting for quite a few other people before getting on their way.  We continued past them into a room hidden behind the stairs.  It held an exhibit about Chilean folklore musician Victor Jara.  It was interesting, although a little difficult to follow because the creators assumed that the viewer already knew the history of Jara, and therefore did not give much background information.  We were a little lost, but did enjoy looking at objects from the early 20th century.  The room wound around, even going outside of the main building for a bit.  From there, we were led into the "computer room."

The computer room was quite unique.  All around the outside walls were photos and objects about famous people in Chile's history.  In the center of the room was an elevated platform upon which there were three rows of computers.  To reach the platform, users had to climb a ramp that spiraled around it.  The ramp was surrounded by a translucent wall covered in poetry and music by prominent Chilean artists.  It was really neat to look at, although I'm not sure how I would feel having to work up on a platform with tourists coming in and staring at me all day.  I guess I do have similar experience, though--the lab I worked at in Florida was part of the museum exhibit, so we often felt like zoo animals!  Especially when large school groups went by.  I think I can safely say that I don't really miss that aspect of the job.

As of yet, we hadn't actually found any books, which we found slightly odd given that we were inside a library.  The library is three stories tall, so we figured that the books must be hiding up near the top.  We exited the computer room through a cafe (which had a large book on display behind a case, but still nothing for reading).  There were elegant staircases to either side, but one was blocked off.  That left us only one choice, so we climbed up to the second floor. There was a great view off a balcony to the cafe below and some more computers, but no books.  On the other side of the hallway was a large study room filled with beautiful wooden tables and benches.  There were actually quite a few people inside working, although most were using computers or other electronics.  Only one had a real book!

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Becoming even more concerned by the lack of books in the library, we continued our quest up to the third floor.  It wasn't blocked off, but there also weren't any lights in the narrow corridor we came upon at the top of the stairs.  Most of the rooms were locked off, but we did find an interesting ancient relic--an IBM 9370 Mainframe computer!  Of course we had to take a photo--when else might we have a chance to be around such a historic artifact!  We actually didn't know what it was when we were there, but luckily Mauricio works for IBM and had some insider information to help us identify it.  We were pretty excited about our discovery, but beginning to wonder if there were actually any books in this so-called "library!"  Just as we were about to give up, we walked past a class-enclosed room that was about the size of my bedroom.  It was filled with very old books, and there was a sign on the door stating that an appointment needed to be made to see any of them.  Of course, office hours were very short and during most inconvenient times.  But at least the books existed!

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Satisfied that we had completed our quest, we left the library in search of other adventures.  We found it on Santa Lucia Hill.  The hill is one of the most popular tourist attractions in the city, and has quite a history of its own.  It was known to the native Mapuche people as "Huelen," a mapudungun word meaning "pain, melancholy, or sadness."  I couldn't find any explanation of why it was given such a somber name.  The hill was conquered by Spanish conquistador Pedro de Valdivia on December 13, 1541, and christened with its current name, Santa Lucia.  It was used for many years as a lookout and point of reconnaissance.  Later, in 1816, two forts were built on the north and south sides of the hill to be used by the Spanish in defense against the Mapuche.  The other side of the hill was used as a "cemetery for dissidents" for non-Catholics.  

By the late 19th century, most of the indigenous population had been pushed out of the city, and such strong defenses were no longer needed.  In 1872, Chilean politican Benjamin Vicuña Mackenna proposed a city-wide improvement program, part of which included an extensive remodeling of Santa Lucia Hill.  He built a chapel at the top of the hill, along with a road leading to it.  The rest of the hill was fitted with decorative gardens, fountains, and outlooks.  He also created an advanced irrigation system that is still in use today, as well as the famous yellow facade that is the modern day icon of the hill.  Traditionally, a cannon is shot every day to mark midday.  The practice was paused for a while after the cannon was damaged in the 2010 earthquake, but has recently been reinstated (although it's still only up to once a week or so).   

Laura and I climbed the winding stairs most of the way to the top of the hill.  We found a lookout and tried to see if we could spot my apartment.  Unfortunately, my sense of direction isn't the best and Laura wasn't really in the mindset to be paying attention to where things were when I brought her to my house the night before.  We looked in the general direction and saw some tall buildings that may or may not have been my apartment.  All the hiking made us thirsty, so we stopped at a stand to grab a traditional Chilean drink--mote con huesillo.  It's peach juice with dried peaches and barley.  I love it, and find it the perfect refreshing drink/ snack on a hot day!  I may even go so far as to say that it's my favorite Chilean food.  Laura wasn't quite as enthusiastic as me, though.  She bravely took a taste, but I was left with the majority after she decided that it most closely resembled "soggy brains."

Beneath the hill there is a small indigenous artisan market, so we stopped in for a quick peek.  Laura was momentarily excited to see a range of imported foodstuffs, but it turned out to be mostly quinoa products.  I guess we would have to continue our search for sweet corn flour elsewhere.  We did end up talking to a Aymara man from the north of Chile.  He was selling handmade ocarinas that he designed himself using traditional indigenous symbols.  He gave us a short lesson, and in no time Laura was an expert!  She even drew a small crowd as she performed Bach on a green and yellow ocarina.  I was more interested in the cultural and historical aspects of the instrument, and the man gave me several flyers explaining them.  I even bought one (with Packers colors) to give to Gaven for Christmas!

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We actually ended up doing a lot more than we had initially intended to, and were starting to get tired out.  Laura was still feeling pretty good, so I called Mauricio to let him know that we could make it to dinner later that evening.  We headed back towards the apartment to rest up a little before dinner.  We hadn't eaten much since breakfast and still had a ways to go for dinner, so we stopped at a neighborhood shop for some empanadas to tide us over.  We went for the traditional "pino" (meat and onions) flavored, but with a twist, "aji" (chili pepper).  They were the perfect snack, and even Laura conceded that the one food that Chile does better than Argentina is the empanada.  At least that gives us something to brag about!  When we arrived back at the apartment, we pleasantly surprised with a new set of sheets waiting for us at the concierge desk!  We made up the bed and both settled down for a quick nap before going out again with my old host family.  

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Around 8:00, Mauricio called to let us know they were on their way to pick us up.  Laura and I quickly made ourselves presentable and threw on some sweaters to guard against the cool spring evening air.  We got downstairs just in time to see Mauricio pull up in his new SUV, the rest of the family in tow.  We did some quick introductions as we piled into the car, and everyone commented on how great (albeit Argentinian) Laura's accent was.  We drove towards the "nice" side of town while deciding where to go eat.  We ended up going for "Tip y Tap," a home-style restaurant that I was first introduced to by my host family when my "real" family came to visit me in 2007.  Dad will never forget that experience--first, he tried to give me a piggy-back ride which ended with us both down on our butts in the middle of the parking lot and second, we all got to try raw beef (crudito) "cooked" in lemon juice.

We went to a different location than that made famous by the appearance of the Hoefert clan.  That one was stand-alone, but this time we went to one inside of an upscale mall on the northside of the city.  It was nice to be able to drive through the nice neighborhoods and see all the sights as we did.  Mauricio has spent quite a bit of time in Buenos Aires for his job, so he and Laura compared notes about life there.  She had a little bit of trouble understanding him at first, but once he toned down the Chilean slang she caught on pretty fast.  Having had only a few days experience in (a very touristy area of) Argentina, I was completely lost in their conversation.

Instead, I talked with Chabe about some of my wedding plans.  I invited their family to come to the wedding, and I really hope they can make it!  It's been so nice to have someone helping me out and showing me around during my time in Chile; I hope I can repay some of that to them if they can make the trip.  I also learned that their oldest daughter, who is 15, is about to go on a three-month exchange program to Germany in January.  The two girls study at a German school in Santiago, so are quite proficient in German.  They've also been studying English, and I hear from others that they are very good, although I still haven't managed to convince them to speak to me in English.  I'm hoping to be able to go visit her for a weekend while she's in Germany, so maybe I can convince her then.  Don't hold your breath, though!

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When we finally figured out how to actually get to the restaurant (the layout of the mall isn't the most straight-forward), we went up to the second floor to get a better view.  We sat for a few minutes but no servers came to our table.  We called one over, who told us that they had to serve the other big table upstairs before they could help us (which even included giving us menus, apparently).  We waited a couple more minutes, but eventually just decided to forgo the view and go downstairs to see if we could get some service.  It was much faster down there!  I was still pretty full from my empanada, but I wanted to take advantage of all the good Chilean food I could before I left.  I ordered a salad with fresh tuna and avocados--what could be more Chilean than that?  Laura ordered salmon with sauteed mushrooms, and Mauricio once again ordered the famed raw beef.  Chabe and the girls shared some sandwiches and french fries.  

We chatted and caught up while we enjoyed our food.  We talked about future plans.  I gave some advice for being an exchange student, while Mauricio and Chabe gave me some advice about how to be a married woman.  And of course, we all had to make a little fun of each other!  It was really nice to get together again, even though all of us were a little tired and had to get to school/ work the next day.  We stayed out until around 10:00, and then headed back towards home.  We took the scenic route so that Laura could see a little more of the city (and so more marital advice could be dispensed).  By the time we arrived back at my apartment, we were more than ready to say good-bye and settle into bed.

Laura Comes to Chile

It had been nearly a year since I last saw my best friend, Laura.  We first met when we were assigned to be roommates freshman year of college, and have been good friends every since!  We ended up living together for five years, until life took us in different directions.  She's lived in Texas her whole life, but recently decided that it was time for a change.  She took the plunge and moved to Argentina to teach English.  Though it's still one country over, it's a lot closer than the U.S.!  We both finished up our teaching duties in early December, so she decided to come over to Chile to visit me for a couple weeks before I headed back to the States for the holidays.

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She was scheduled to arrive Monday evening around 8:00.  I was a little nervous because I hadn't given her my address, so I was really counting on being able to find her at the bus terminal.  I went to the main bus station, but couldn't find any terminal for her bus line.  I asked a guard about it, and he pointed me to a smaller bus station across the street.  By the time I found my way through the crowd and made my way to the correct terminal, the bus was scheduled to arrive any minute.  I waited about 15 minutes, but still no Laura.  I started to get a little nervous, because buses in Chile are actually fairly good about keeping to schedules, so I went to the ticket counter to make sure I was in the right place.  I was assured that I was, but the people there had no information about any buses arriving from Mendoza that day.  I went back out to the terminal to wait a little longer.

By 8:30, I was really starting to get nervous, but there was really nothing I could do since I didn't have Laura's phone number (and her phone ended up not even working in Chile, anyway), so I just paced up and down, probably entertaining quite a few people in the process.  I was just about to give up and see if perhaps I needed to go to yet another bus station when I heard my name called from the driveway where the buses came into the terminal--it was Laura, walking in with all her gear, no bus in sight.  She was moving a bit slower than normal, but I figured that she was just tired from the trip (over a day from Buenos Aires to Santiago).  I ran over to greet her, and she gave me a hug and said, "Hi, I really missed you--now can we go to the hospital?"

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It turned out that she had been having pain in her abdomen and lower back for a few days, but didn't think much of it and hoped that it would go away in time for her visit to Chile.  Unfortunately, not only did her symptoms not improve, they got much worse and were aggravated by the long bus rides through the mountains.  To top things off, her bus from Mendoza to Santiago had a bad habit of breaking down every hour or so.  Every time it broke down, all the passengers would be told to get off the bus and get their luggage to wait for another bus to come and rescue them.  Just as everyone got off and ready to board another bus, the mechanic would tell them that their current bus was good to go and they could all get back on and continue their journey.  This occurred several times over the 7-hour trip.  The last time it happened just a few blocks away from the bus station, so all the passengers were told to get off and just walk the rest of the way.  I was actually really surprised that they were only half an hour late after all that!

Anyway, all the stopping and starting and getting on and off really didn't help with Laura's condition, so she was pretty fed up by the time she arrived in Santiago.  It was too late to get in to a "regular" clinic, and I had been fortunate enough to never have had to visit a doctor in Chile, so I didn't know where there would be one that would be open so late.  Luckily, Laura had made friends with her seatmate on the bus, so we asked him if he knew of any place.  His relatives were life-long residents of Santiago, so they recommended that we go the the clinic associated with the Universidad Católica.  They gave us directions to the 24/7 Urgent Care, and I realized that it was only a few blocks from my apartment!  In fact, I pass by it regularly and never really registered what it was!  I was relieved to find out that it was in a familiar place.

Unfortunately, the clinic is about half an hour away from the bus station by metro.  Laura and I tried to catch up a little on the way over, but it wasn't the easiest for her to stay focused through the pain.  She said that it was getting progressively worse, and that she was really worried because she had been looking at WebMD when her symptoms first presented and had read about people going into renal failure with similar symptoms.  So, first lesson: never look up your symptoms online!  I can't tell you how many times the internet has told me with "complete accuracy" that I am pregnant.  If everything on the internet were true, I should probably have about 47 children by now.  At least.

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Anyways, we finally made it to the urgent care center around 9:30 p.m.  The waiting room was pretty full of people with all sorts of ailments.  I wasn't quite sure how urgent care works in Chile (and now that I mention it, I'm not really sure how it works in the U.S., either), so I went to the information desk to ask what we should do.  They told us that we needed to register with a Chilean ID number before we could be put in the queue for triage.  Since Laura didn't have one, they let her register with mine.  They told us that the wait for triage shouldn't be too long, but that it would probably take about three hours after that before we could get in for treatment.  They were right; Laura was called to the triage room about 15 minutes later.  They had a little trouble with her middle name, which they pronounced "Gay", followed by a long paused, then: "-Lay."  We weren't sure at first if they were actually calling her, but the man from the information counter assured us that it was our turn.

We were taken to a small room just behind the waiting room, where a nurse asked some questions to determine how to initially diagnose Laura.  She tried to speak in English, but Laura insisted on Spanish so that she could practice.  It ended up being a mixture of Spanglish and excellent miming, but we managed to get the point across.  The nurse told us that it sounded like an urinary tract infection, but it was possible that it might be a kidney stone or something like that as well.  She put Laura's information in the system, fitted her with a hospital bracelet, and sent us back out to the waiting room to wait for the doctor.

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By now it was past 10:00, and we were both pretty hungry.  Laura hadn't really eaten a "real" meal since she left Buenos Aires more than 24 hours before.  I offered to go out in search of food while she stayed in the waiting room, just in case things moved faster than expected.  Even though Santiago is the biggest city in Chile, it does slow down quite a bit at night so there weren't a whole bunch of options available at that time.  Luckily, Laura requested something with fish (apparently seafood prices are through the roof in Buenos Aires--surprising, given that it's right on the coast), and the first place I came to was a sushi restaurant.  I never know what to order at sushi restaurants, so I just asked for the 2-person special.  I only had large bills and the cashier didn't have enough change, so while they prepared my order I went to the convenience store across the street to get some.  I tried to look for pineapple juice, because Laura had read that that might help with a UTI.  The store didn't have any, so I settled for orange.

The sushi place was surprisingly really quick, and had my order ready to go by the time I returned with the correct change.  The 2-person meal looked more like a 4- or 5-person meal, but I was glad for the extra food because I was starving!  We'd planned to go out to a big dinner with Raul as soon as Laura arrived, so I hadn't eaten much earlier in the day in preparation for that.  When I got back to the clinic with the food, we decided to sit outside and eat, just in case there might be some undesirable pathogens hanging around the waiting room.  There were some undesirable flaites hanging around outside, but they just gave us weird looks as we sat on the steps and enjoyed our take-out sushi and orange juice straight from the container.  We made it about halfway through before we were starting to get full.  We packed it up and headed back inside.

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We'd lost our original seats, so we had to shuffle to the back of the room to find two open next to each other.  As we sat down, I checked my watch: 11:10 p.m.  According to the information we'd been given upon checking in, we still had over two hours to wait until getting called to see a doctor.  We settled in and tried to watch the tv across the room while we waited our turn.  We weren't really paying attention to the names being called, but only a few minutes later the man from the information station came over to us and told us that they had been calling us and we should hurry to the back before they gave our spot to someone else.  We were astonished that we were going in so quickly; as you've probably noticed from my other posts, most aspects of life in Chile are decidedly slower than what we're used to in the U.S.

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We headed towards the back of the building again, where we were met by a nurse who escorted us to a small room with 5 beds separated by curtains.  We were shown to the bed in the corner.  It was a little awkward, because the only way to access it was by walking through the curtained-off areas of two other patients.  But at least we got some good privacy!  The nurse had Laura get comfortable on the bed, and asked her to rate her pain on a scale from 1-10.  Laura estimated she was around 8, so the nurse offered to give her some intravenous pain medication.  Laura agreed before the offer was even fully out of the nurses mouth!  The nurse laughed and went off to find someone to run the line.

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We had to wait a bit for someone to come, so we took the opportunity to catch up a little and try to get Laura's mind off the pain.  Of course, we had to gossip!  Laura told me all about her life in Argentina, and told me that (apart from being in excruciating pain at the moment), her life was pretty awesome.  She even had a new sexy boyfriend from Colombia!  She told me that he's a pretty good cook, and that she had become addicted to a Colombian delicacy called "arepas."  I don't think that I've ever had one, but after Laura's raving description of them, I definitely want to try!  Apparently, they are kind of like pancakes, except that they are made out of a special sweet corn flour, harina de choclo dulce.  She told me that food in general is in short supply in Argentina, but that finding the flour for arepas was pretty much impossible.  She hoped to find some in Chile, but I didn't remember seeing any at any of the places that I normally shopped.  I promised to take her to some of the big import stores to check, anyways.

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Just about the time Laura had convinced me that arepas are the food of the gods and nothing else is worth eating, another nurse came in to run the IV line for the pain medication.  We heard her coming from a mile away, because she was pushing a huge cart with all her supplies, and had to navigate it through the narrow corridors and between all the beds to reach us in the back of the room.  She finally made it and settled down next to Laura on her left side to insert the needle.  By now, Laura's pain had worsened significantly and she was shaking.  I was a little worried, but she told me that it seemed to be her body's way of dealing with pain because it happens quite regularly when she gets hurt.  Of course, it didn't make things any easier for the nurse, although I must say that Laura made a heroic effort to keep still while she was working to find a vein.  Laura's veins apparently weren't really up to being found that night, because the nurse tried four different spots on her left arm and didn't manage to get the needle in any of them.  Frustrated, she left without saying much.

A few minutes later, we heard more clanging as a different nurse pushed her cart through the obstacle course to arrive in our corner.  She tried the left arm one more time but still didn't manage to find a vein.  She maneuvered herself and her cart over to the right side to try again.  Another three tries, and still nothing.  She got pretty aggressive, too, moving the needle back and forth vigorously inside of Laura's arm.  Laura was talking to me and not watching, but I couldn't help but stare at the nurse's wild efforts to insert the needle.  I'm not generally a queasy person, but her technique almost made me sick!  A few more stabs and she gave up on the right arm, too.  She left, and it looked like Laura wasn't going to get any pain medication after all.  But the nurse came back a few minutes later with a smaller needle and gave it one more try.  Finally, she managed to find the vein and get the IV going, but by this time Laura looked like a drug user, with track marks and bruises all up and down both of her arms!

It was worth it, though, because the medicine started to work almost immediately and Laura could relax a little more while we waited for the doctor.  When he came in, he started to explain things to her and asked if she would prefer that he speak English.  She said no, and he seemed pretty relieved about that.  He said that he had studied in the U.S. for a year, but that he didn't get much practice in Chile, so our Spanish was probably better than his English.  He made the effort to speak slowly and clearly, but Laura was still having some trouble understanding him, and he must have noticed this because he asked again if she would like to speak English.  She responded, "no, but could you speak in Argentinian? I don't really understand the Chilean accent."  He laughed, but actually made a (very good) effort to speak in an Argentinian accent.  He must have done a good job, because Laura understood much better after that!

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He explained that the tests they had run revealed that she had a urinary tract infection (a relief to us, after having convinced ourselves that it was a kidney infection).  However, the tests would not be able to tell what kind of infection it was for another 48 hours.  This was a bit of a problem because we were scheduled to leave for the south of Chile the next day!  We asked the doctor about that, and he said we should be clear to go if she felt better by that time.  He told us he would prescribe her with an antibiotic, but that we had to be sure to check the online system while we were in the south to make sure that she didn't have a drug-resistant infection.  If she did, we would have to find a doctor there who could prescribe stronger antibiotics.  After the doctor explained all this in Spanish, he told us that he was legally obligated to explain it to us in our native language, so he reiterated it all in English.  He got stuck on a few of the medical terms, but somehow I managed to help him with all of them.  I have no idea how I got such a great medical terminology vocabulary, but I suspect that some of it may be due to being the daughter of a doctor.  Thanks, Dad!

The doctor wrote a prescription for an antibiotic and two medications to help with the pain, and released us to the billing department.  Once again, I had to sign all the papers since I was the one with a national ID.  It turned out to be quite the expensive night--about $300USD for the consultation and lab tests.  And we still hadn't even picked up the prescriptions!  It was now about 2:00 a.m., and there wasn't a pharmacy associated with the clinic, so we though we might have to wait until morning to pick up the prescriptions.  Laura was not too happy about that, because the pain medication had begun to wear off and she was starting to get uncomfortable again.  Luckily, we found out that there was a 24/7 pharmacy just a few blocks away.

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Unfortunately, it was in the other direction from my house, in an area that is not known to be the best, especially at night.  We hurried past a group of unsavory-looking youth and made it to our destination without much incident.  We did get yelled at by a cab driver waiting across the street, warning us not to walk in that area because it was dangerous at night.  We didn't have much of a choice, so we just moved as quickly as we could and tried to look alert (probably a bit easier for me than Laura, who hadn't slept in two days and was starting to feel the pain full-force again).  We hoped that her debit card wouldn't get rejected at the pharmacy for so many expensive purchases in a foreign country over such a short time, but it turned out that all three medications cost less than $12USD.  One good thing about going to a pharmacy at 2:30 a.m. is that there really isn't much of a line, so we were in and out in only a few minutes.   We hurried back home, eager to finally get in bed.

We had to take a quick stop in the lobby to say hello to the concierges, but managed to get up to the room and ready for bed by around 3:00 a.m.  I'd been contacting my landlord about borrowing sheets for the pull-out bed for about three days, but still hadn't been able to track any down, so we just laid some extra blankets on top for the time being.  Laura was so exhausted that she didn't really mind at that point.  She took her medicine and we both headed off to bed.  We didn't get much rest right away, because around 4:30 a.m. she started having horrible pains again, and we were worried that she might be getting worse because it should have been too soon for the pain medication to wear off already.  We actually even called my Dad to see if we needed to go back to the clinic, but he told us that she should be ok and would just have to ride out the pain.  After some deduction, we realized that she had actually only taken half the prescribed dosage of medicine, so she took some more and tried to go back to sleep.

Finally her pain began to subside and I was felt less worried, and we both fell asleep.  It was about 6:00 a.m.  Luckily, we didn't have any set plans for the next day!