While We're Waiting in Line

 

Since my husband is not mobile at the moment, besides my usual chores I am the one responsible for getting his medication for him. That means periodic trips to the pharmacy.

I hate going to the pharmacy, any pharmacy. In Israel they are an entire world by themselves.

The one I usually go to is small and almost always full of people. Sometimes, if weather permits, after I take a number, I go and wait outside. If not, then I have to go inside. At least in summer there is air conditioning.

Today, an old lady, I think from Georgia, has a prescription for Voltaren, unfortunately uncovered by the health insurance.

Old lady: “Why is it so expensive?”

Pharmacist: “That’s the full price. Do you want it or not?”

Old lady: “Yes”.

Pharmacist: “Big or small?”

Old lady: “What?”

Pharmacist: “The tube of ointment. Voltaren. Big or small?”

Old lady: “Show me both of them”.

She takes both tubes and examines them for, it feels like, long minutes.

Old lady: “I want the small one. Why is so expensive?”

Pharmacist: “I ‘ve told you. It is not covered by the health insurance”.

Old lady: “Why?”

Pharmacist: “I don’t know. It simply isn’t”.

Old lady: “I don’t want it anymore. It is too expensive. I think I have one at home, anyway”.

Gives the tube back to the pharmacist and exits the room. Comes back after a few minutes and inserts herself between the counter and another person that’s already there.

Old lady: “I’ve changed my mind. I want the ointment.”

Pharmacist: “You have to wait until I’ve finished with him”, points at the person that looks baffled at the old lady.

Finally, after much debate that lasted at least ten minutes, concerning the dimensions of the tube, the quantity of the ointment and the number of times it should be applied, the old lady leaves with a small tube of Voltaren.

Oh my, that pharmacist, she had the patience of a saint.

At another counter, another old lady. Small and frail, with a Superman cap on her head.

Pharmacist: “You have to take the medicine with a meal”.

Superman cap lady: “Why?”

Pharmacist: “You shouldn’t take it on an empty stomach; it could hurt it”.

Superman cap lady: “But I always take it on an empty stomach!”

After another long debate about the rights and wrongs of taking medicine with or without food, Superman cap lady is not convinced. But leaves with the medicine anyway.

At another counter, a very old man, crooked like a question mark over his walker, shouts in Russian. I guess he is almost deaf, because the pharmacist shouts back, too. The shouting goes on for several minutes.

Another number is called. A young man, smelling strongly of perspiration, shoves me aside in order to reach the counter.

“Let me pass, lady”, he says angrily. I make myself small to let him pass.

While waiting for my turn (already 50 minutes have passed) I scan the shelves. They have lots of shelves in this tiny room. On one wall and three shelving stands in the middle. As if the room isn’t cramped enough. But it is clearly a marketing strategy, because when I leave the pharmacy, one hour later, beside the medicine for my husband I acquired one shampoo, one tub of toothpaste, some face cream, a hand cream and some vitamins.

A Hopeful Easter...

 

I had an entirely different post planned for today, but then I remembered...God, today is Easter! As you may know, or if you don't I'm telling you now, I  am Christian. And for me, keeping my faith and its holidays is very important...But gosh, with what is happening today in my life, I forgot about Easter...shame on me, yeah...

Well, what can I say...I have reasons... apart from the war that has got me suffering from terrible insomnia and anxiety, my husband's disease has made its grand return and it's back with a vengeance... so, at the moment I have difficulties thinking straight...It is the third relapse and until we know exactly what it is and what can be done my head is a carousel of ideas and bad thoughts...

So, yep, I forgot...In the end I managed to dye a few eggs because there is no Easter without dyed eggs but I am going to leave you with one of my posts from the 15th of April 2012...same vibe, in a sense...

"Memories of Easters Past

As here in Israel today is a working, normal day, after I took Maya to the kindy (and I regret it now, I should’ve keep her at home with me, maybe I would've felt better), I ate alone my Easter brunch and remembered the ones from my childhood – the only nice memories that I have about holidays. I recall our Easter breakfasts, our small kitchen and us, the four kids, around it, and the table heavy with food: dyed eggs, ham, spring onions, radishes, Romanian ricotta – "urda", the best ricotta there is, and "kash" – hard, unsalted cheese made from sheep’s milk and the home-made bread with a thick, crunchy crust. And the lunches, even better, sorrel soup with lamb and rice, stuffed lamb with new potatoes and lettuce. Then, the pound cakes, sweet and filled with nuts and sugar... 

After I grew up and left home Easter was never the same and now I’ve lost hope that it would ever be.

My husband, desperate to see me so sad and depressed every major Christian holiday keeps asking me what would really made me happy…And the truth is, I don’t know… I am aware that I cannot move back time and re-live the good times. I am stuck here, in limbo, between the past that haunts me and the present that doesn’t suit me at all.

But, enough of this, today is Easter and I going to wait until Maya gets home from the kindy and then we'll clink and knock Easter eggs until their shells break and we'll say "Christos a Inviat" - "Christ has risen" and I'm sure Maya will want to draw a picture of us...And we'll invent our own traditions, because I want Maya to have happy childhood memories too..."

That is, really...I have some red eggs and no food on the table this Easter, but I have to remain hopeful that, the same as Christ has risen this day, we will rise from our own misfortunes...Yes, it is one of my most miserable Easters ever, but I have to keep going, for my family's sake, as I have been doing for some time now.

Hope Is My Middle Name

Image by Mr Jaded via Flickr

I have to admit it, today was a better day that the last..hm...the last "few" ones. Our dog Dooby is feeling a tad better, not wheezing like an old, almost broken engine, still peeing the house like there is no tomorow. But I decided to simply accept it this way. He is old, he'll die soon (unfortunately) and if I have to clean after him for a while, so be it. Mind you, I am not that optimistic after I clean pee nr. 20, but thank God here in Israel we have tiles all over the apartment, and not wooden floors.
Another reason I feel better is because my son's motorbike's got stolen. Yes, you've heard me. STOLEN! And I am happy about it. He bought it four months ago and this was his third accident...I know he took a loan to pay for the bike and to fix it but he'll pay it up and he'll stay alive. That's the most important thing. We tried to talk him out this motorbike stuff after each and every accident, but he didn't want to listen. So I thought I'd have to smash it to little pieces with a hammer or something, because I couldn't let him ride it again. But God helped us all and somebody stole it! I hope they'll never find the thief...
It rained today. During the day it wasn't the nicest sensation because the weather is pretty hot and you got the feeling you're in a greenhouse. But it the evening! It was pure bliss and paradise together! I opened all the windows and let the fresh air tumble in, paying havoc with my wind-chimes. The smell of fresh air and rain always make me think about my childhood in Romania.
Also, today Maya had her first jump into puddles experience. We took her to the pediatrician and when we got out the alley between the houses was full of fresh, shiny puddles! My husband wanted to stop her but I said that there is no greater pleasure after the rain that to jump into puddles, so I took my baby and showed her how to properly do it.
So after a day like this one, please, allow me to fell hopeful...

Waiting for Tomorow

Image by » Zitona « via Flickr

I am EXHAUSTED. Purely and utterly exhausted. I think that there could be two explanations for this state of mine: one, I suffer from some disease that sucks all my energy away, leaving me dry and powerless and two, I JUST NEED A BREAK, a holiday, a day off, something! I am on duty for some time, damn it! Since Maya was born, I've never left the premises alone but one time, when I had to travel to Romania for five days, to solve some problems related to the "proprieties" that we have there. Five days, and I had such problems with my conscience I didn't want to call back home, for fear that I'd heard some bad news...They were fine, and when I returned, I found a haunted looking husband, for five days he had to carry Maya in his arms, because she refused point blank the pram or to walk. For five days he fed Maya the same food, because she kept asking for it (and he was afraid she'd refuse anything else), I think it was mango and tofu cubes or such, also he accidentaly spilled his coffee on our sofa in the living room, sat on it afterwards and went out with a huge coffee stain on his bottom...things like that. But I found them in good health and happy...but I never left afterwards. So I am finished, tired, exhausted by living every day the same scenario - more or less, for not having the time to properly sit and put my thoughts in order, for spending my nights trying to find myself, lost in my monotone life...
Am I a bad mother by saying that I cannot wait for Maya to start kindergarten, because I really, really need some time for myself? I love her dearly, and I enjoy imensely my time with her, but I am afraid that I am transforming into someone else I don't like...I want to add new meanings, new connotations to my life. I cannot be only mother and wife from now on to the grave. I don't want to crawl through a meaningless existence, I have too many plans and somewhere, deep, buried under bills, recipes, visits to the doctor and endless shopping lists lays my true soul, the soul of a fighter, the soul of a journalist, dare I say the soul of a writer...
I am exhausted and a bit afraid for what the future holds for us, afraid to let my baby unfold her wings, afraid. So maybe I'll just turn off the computer for now and go lay beside my husband and daughter...tomorow a brand new day awaits...And who knows, maybe tomorow will be the day...