This has been a rough week or so for mum. Her Oldest sister who lived in Seattle had been in the hospital. She had some surgery and then apparently had a major heart attack. Mum had only been told that Ros was having some "minor" surgery. (The reasoning for this goes way way back to when they were kids and because of mum's "hole in the heart" situation, the family were told to treat her "with kid gloves" basically, so she was always the last to find out about most things -- a long story which I may be able to get her to tell you all about some other time.) Anyway, Ros had open heart surgery this past Tuesday and things appeared to be going along ok -- or as ok as possible for an 80 year old with iffy health. Mum forgot that her other sister, Dianne, was having cataract surgery on Thursday, and when she had not heard from Dianne by Friday afternoon, she called her. At that point all seemed well. Dianne was recovering from her cataract surgery ok, but mum and she got into an argument over things that had happened years ago -- another long story for another time. Anyway, thing seemed to be going ok until Saturday afternoon when Dianne called to sa that Ros had died. Now, mum is upset because she does not know how to find the money to get to Seattle!!!! Mum got online and checked out airlines and if she flies from Phoenix to Seattle it is about $400 less. There is a shuttle from Tucson to Phoenix, but it will be a hassle. She also has to find out if he can take me with and what papers, etc. she will need for me. I will also mention that mum had tummy troubles on Friday and Saturday morning. Fortunately (for me, anyway) on Friday she started after she had taken me out to do my biznez but Saturday it started earlier, and so she could not take me out. She also forgot to feed me till about 3 pm!!!!!! She told me I was a very good girl cos I did not have an accident in the house. Oh, and I should mention that on Friday we met my "good Samaritan" who helped out when I had my little "incident" a couple of weeks ago. Mum was talking to him while he was eating a really good smelling samwich that I was eagerly sniffing and they were both ignoring!!! But to get back to mum -- needless to say me and the kitties have been giving mum lots of hugs and kisses to make her feel better. I am trying to convince her to put up a GoFundMe page to see if we can get some help. She would be flying out on Tuesday and coming back either Thursday evening or Friday. She will meet Dianne in seattle and Dianne had hotel points for the Marriott and mum will take some of her special shakes etc with her.
I want to go and give her more hugs and kisses so I am gonna end now -- will talk more later.
ttfn and toodle pip
Cookie (who is giving mum lots of tlc)
Cookie's Comments
Sunday, March 18, 2018
Sunday, March 11, 2018
CONTINUATION OF MUM'S (MIS)ADVENTURES AS A TEENAGER
Cookie's mum here: After bugging me to continue with my story from the other day, Cookie went back to taking a nap after giving me my "instructions".
I think we left off while I was in the British Military Hospital in Paris. Anyway, the staff in the hospital were really nice to me. Also, one of my brother's came over to visit me. I found out later that my dad had started to get concerned because he had not heard from me. I usually met him for lunch on Monday's because he was working around the corner to my office. The first Monday after I was due home, he just figured I was busy at work, but the second week he got concerned. At the time I was living near my brother Cyril so my dad called Cyril's office and was told that he had made an unexpected trip to Paris. Dad then got even more concerned and called Cyril's wife, who then told him that I was in the hospital in Paris. Of course Dad got really concerned and also annoyed that they had not told him sooner what had happened!!! So I had a really nice visit with Cyril, who told me that on the Saturday when I was supposed to arrive by plane from Paris, he had gone to the airport and was then made aware of what happened -- needless to say Cyril (and my dad when he found out) were really annoyed and upset that the group had left me in Paris basically on my own!!! I then started getting letters and cards from friends, etc., in England. Also, the brother of a friend of my sister's also came to visit me. Actually, when he got there, it was rather funny because I heard someone mention "Rosalind Black" and knew who it was. For some reason, Harvey always called me by my oldest sister's name -- and sure enough, it was him!!
When the time came for me to return to England, I was not allowed to go by plane because I was not allowed to be in an upright position for too long. So I was going by boat ferry overnight and my sister in law Margaret came over for the day to travel back with me. There were a couple of amusing incidents that happened on that trip. First, I had a British army escort to the train, which did cause quite a commotion. For some reason or other, I did not have shoes, but did have socks on. The porter wanted to have my escort lift me through the train window!!! I put a stop to that and insisted that I could manage to walk the short distance to the train!!! The trip itself was quite uneventful, but VERY bumpy when the train was going on and off the ferry. I was confined to bed so I got quite restless. Margaret quite enjoyed the trip!!! She had also done some sightseeing, etc., in Paris!!!! When we got to London, we were left on the train for quite some time. Apparently the ambulance that had been scheduled to pick me up at the station had got the days mixed up because of my travelling overnight!!!! My dad was quite used to dealing with officialdom and getting his own way (another long story for another time), and he had talked his way onto the platform to chat with me. This was actually supposed to be taboo because the fact that I was still on the train, meant that they could not clear it through customs. Consequently, the train was running quite late for the outward bound trip. Railway officials asked if I would mind waiting in the First Aid station until the ambulance arrived. I said that would be fine -- what I did not realize was that they were going to take me over there on a stretcher!!! This was a warm Sunday morning in September at Victoria Station. My dad and Margaret walked about 10 paces behind me; I was flat on my back staring at the ceiling (everywhere but at the crowds) and the porter was yelling "MIND YER BACKS" every few minutes. So, of course, everyone was looking a me and wondering what had happened to me. Finally the ambulance arrived, but they had sent one with only 1 ambulance attendance -- so they put me in a wheelchair to get into the ambulance. When we got to the hospital, again they put me in a wheelchair (one of those old wooden "bath chairs" that can be seen on old English movies, etc.). I was very uncomfortable and finally collared a nurse and quite loudly complained about the fact that I had had to travel overnight because I had to lie flat, and was now being made to sit up, which was VERY uncomfortable. The hastened to get me a stretcher before I made too much of a fuss. I finally got up to the ward and, again, was made to sit up in bed. Turns out it was because I had peritonitis and that was the normal part of treatment. Also, English hospitals did not have electric beds and the contraption to sit me up was very complicated and the patient could not adjust it!!! Very uncomfortable!!!!! I am not sure if I mentioned it, but the food at the British Military hospital was like a four start French restaurant -- so, of course, the first meal I had in the London Hospital seemed even worse than it usually did. It came around on a steam table and was tasteless and overcooked. On Monday, my surgeon was making his rounds. You only saw your "specialist"/surgeon once or twice a week and he came with a whole entourage -- Him with Matron, Sister from the ward, head nurse, Resident, Intern and (because it was a teaching hospital) several medical students. You only spoke to your specialist when he spoke to you and usually the answer was "yes" or "no" answers. I was still recuperating from the journey, so when he asked how I was, I said I was still very tired from the trip over. He commented that there were better ways of coming from Paris. At this point, I didn't care what I said, and answered, "Yes, but I had to travel by train because I was not allowed to sit up for that long and I get here and am made to sit up!!!" Well, after everyone picked their jaws up from the floor (because no one EVER responded to the specialist like that), he had the decency to look a little flustered and turned to Matron and said that if I was more comfortable, I could be allowed to lie down!!!! There were a few other little incidents like that along the way. For instance, I name has the French spelling, and one of the doctors who came around (and there were many, many many doctors who came around) was discussing my case right in front of me (which is something that is also NEVER) done, and made the comment to the other doctor he was with that he wondered if I spoke English. I again responded that yes I did speak English because I was from London!!! Also, because it was a teaching hospital, a medical student was assigned to work up my medical history. A male student with a female patient had to have a chaperone (!!) and had to do the workup around everything else going on, so it took quite some time. When he thought he was finished, he quite casually asked me if I ever got breathless. When I said that I did he asked what I attributed that to I replied "to the hole in my heart of course". Both of their jaws dropped because now they had to go into that history!!!
English hospitals at that time did not have the luxuries that US hospitals did (no phones or TV's) but the nursing care was superb and there were lots of little extras -- such as a cup of tea first thing in the morning (before breakfast, of course) and backrubs at night!!
I finally had my surgery and was in the hospital a couple of weeks afterwards, then I went to a convalescent home for 3 weeks. If I went into all the little things that happened (funny and not so) this would run on for pages and pages. Suffice it to say that at the end of it all, I had gone ona 2 week holiday and ended up being gone for 3 months!!!! I had not been working at this firm for long so I was lucky that they kept the job open for me!!!
Well, I hope I haven't bored you too much -- I will now let Cookie have her blog back.
Cookie here -- well, after a nice nap while mum was writing that, I will not write too much except to say
ttfn and toodle pip
Cookie
I think we left off while I was in the British Military Hospital in Paris. Anyway, the staff in the hospital were really nice to me. Also, one of my brother's came over to visit me. I found out later that my dad had started to get concerned because he had not heard from me. I usually met him for lunch on Monday's because he was working around the corner to my office. The first Monday after I was due home, he just figured I was busy at work, but the second week he got concerned. At the time I was living near my brother Cyril so my dad called Cyril's office and was told that he had made an unexpected trip to Paris. Dad then got even more concerned and called Cyril's wife, who then told him that I was in the hospital in Paris. Of course Dad got really concerned and also annoyed that they had not told him sooner what had happened!!! So I had a really nice visit with Cyril, who told me that on the Saturday when I was supposed to arrive by plane from Paris, he had gone to the airport and was then made aware of what happened -- needless to say Cyril (and my dad when he found out) were really annoyed and upset that the group had left me in Paris basically on my own!!! I then started getting letters and cards from friends, etc., in England. Also, the brother of a friend of my sister's also came to visit me. Actually, when he got there, it was rather funny because I heard someone mention "Rosalind Black" and knew who it was. For some reason, Harvey always called me by my oldest sister's name -- and sure enough, it was him!!
When the time came for me to return to England, I was not allowed to go by plane because I was not allowed to be in an upright position for too long. So I was going by boat ferry overnight and my sister in law Margaret came over for the day to travel back with me. There were a couple of amusing incidents that happened on that trip. First, I had a British army escort to the train, which did cause quite a commotion. For some reason or other, I did not have shoes, but did have socks on. The porter wanted to have my escort lift me through the train window!!! I put a stop to that and insisted that I could manage to walk the short distance to the train!!! The trip itself was quite uneventful, but VERY bumpy when the train was going on and off the ferry. I was confined to bed so I got quite restless. Margaret quite enjoyed the trip!!! She had also done some sightseeing, etc., in Paris!!!! When we got to London, we were left on the train for quite some time. Apparently the ambulance that had been scheduled to pick me up at the station had got the days mixed up because of my travelling overnight!!!! My dad was quite used to dealing with officialdom and getting his own way (another long story for another time), and he had talked his way onto the platform to chat with me. This was actually supposed to be taboo because the fact that I was still on the train, meant that they could not clear it through customs. Consequently, the train was running quite late for the outward bound trip. Railway officials asked if I would mind waiting in the First Aid station until the ambulance arrived. I said that would be fine -- what I did not realize was that they were going to take me over there on a stretcher!!! This was a warm Sunday morning in September at Victoria Station. My dad and Margaret walked about 10 paces behind me; I was flat on my back staring at the ceiling (everywhere but at the crowds) and the porter was yelling "MIND YER BACKS" every few minutes. So, of course, everyone was looking a me and wondering what had happened to me. Finally the ambulance arrived, but they had sent one with only 1 ambulance attendance -- so they put me in a wheelchair to get into the ambulance. When we got to the hospital, again they put me in a wheelchair (one of those old wooden "bath chairs" that can be seen on old English movies, etc.). I was very uncomfortable and finally collared a nurse and quite loudly complained about the fact that I had had to travel overnight because I had to lie flat, and was now being made to sit up, which was VERY uncomfortable. The hastened to get me a stretcher before I made too much of a fuss. I finally got up to the ward and, again, was made to sit up in bed. Turns out it was because I had peritonitis and that was the normal part of treatment. Also, English hospitals did not have electric beds and the contraption to sit me up was very complicated and the patient could not adjust it!!! Very uncomfortable!!!!! I am not sure if I mentioned it, but the food at the British Military hospital was like a four start French restaurant -- so, of course, the first meal I had in the London Hospital seemed even worse than it usually did. It came around on a steam table and was tasteless and overcooked. On Monday, my surgeon was making his rounds. You only saw your "specialist"/surgeon once or twice a week and he came with a whole entourage -- Him with Matron, Sister from the ward, head nurse, Resident, Intern and (because it was a teaching hospital) several medical students. You only spoke to your specialist when he spoke to you and usually the answer was "yes" or "no" answers. I was still recuperating from the journey, so when he asked how I was, I said I was still very tired from the trip over. He commented that there were better ways of coming from Paris. At this point, I didn't care what I said, and answered, "Yes, but I had to travel by train because I was not allowed to sit up for that long and I get here and am made to sit up!!!" Well, after everyone picked their jaws up from the floor (because no one EVER responded to the specialist like that), he had the decency to look a little flustered and turned to Matron and said that if I was more comfortable, I could be allowed to lie down!!!! There were a few other little incidents like that along the way. For instance, I name has the French spelling, and one of the doctors who came around (and there were many, many many doctors who came around) was discussing my case right in front of me (which is something that is also NEVER) done, and made the comment to the other doctor he was with that he wondered if I spoke English. I again responded that yes I did speak English because I was from London!!! Also, because it was a teaching hospital, a medical student was assigned to work up my medical history. A male student with a female patient had to have a chaperone (!!) and had to do the workup around everything else going on, so it took quite some time. When he thought he was finished, he quite casually asked me if I ever got breathless. When I said that I did he asked what I attributed that to I replied "to the hole in my heart of course". Both of their jaws dropped because now they had to go into that history!!!
English hospitals at that time did not have the luxuries that US hospitals did (no phones or TV's) but the nursing care was superb and there were lots of little extras -- such as a cup of tea first thing in the morning (before breakfast, of course) and backrubs at night!!
I finally had my surgery and was in the hospital a couple of weeks afterwards, then I went to a convalescent home for 3 weeks. If I went into all the little things that happened (funny and not so) this would run on for pages and pages. Suffice it to say that at the end of it all, I had gone ona 2 week holiday and ended up being gone for 3 months!!!! I had not been working at this firm for long so I was lucky that they kept the job open for me!!!
Well, I hope I haven't bored you too much -- I will now let Cookie have her blog back.
Cookie here -- well, after a nice nap while mum was writing that, I will not write too much except to say
ttfn and toodle pip
Cookie
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
MY LITTLE "ADVENTURE"
Cookie's mum here: Before I continue with my "memories", Cookie wanted me to tell you about her little "adventure" the other day.
We had gone over to Vic's on Sunday afternoon and I did not go for my phone for some time after we got home. Vic was having problems with his internet so I could not get hold of him. So on Monday morning we went over there. Sure enough the phone was there. We decided to go home at about 9:30 am. As we were walking home, Cookie was walking slower and slower. (Remember her leash is attached to my wheelchair). Anyway, we had just turned into the driveway to our complex when all of a sudden, it felt like I was dragging a 10 ton weight!!! I looked down and Cookie was on her back on the ground panting away and drooling like crazy. One of the men who was working on a bulldozer came over and gave her some water, but she still would not get up. The young man was really great and when I asked him if he could carry her in to my apartment, he lifted her as though she was a puppy!!!! It took a while (with me watching her practically every second) but she finally stopped with the panting and got up and took a long drink of water. As you can imagine, I was really upset over all this. My back was already giving me problems but after this little "adventure" it REALLY started hurting. It happened that I had an appointment with my Primary doctor, and he recommended that I go to a pain center-- like me, he does not want me to get really addicted to pain meds!!!!
Well after relaxing, taking Gabapentin and my pain meds, the pain has eased up somewhat. Hopefully I will continue my "adventure" in Paris tomorrow!!!
ttfn and toodle pip
Cookie's mum
We had gone over to Vic's on Sunday afternoon and I did not go for my phone for some time after we got home. Vic was having problems with his internet so I could not get hold of him. So on Monday morning we went over there. Sure enough the phone was there. We decided to go home at about 9:30 am. As we were walking home, Cookie was walking slower and slower. (Remember her leash is attached to my wheelchair). Anyway, we had just turned into the driveway to our complex when all of a sudden, it felt like I was dragging a 10 ton weight!!! I looked down and Cookie was on her back on the ground panting away and drooling like crazy. One of the men who was working on a bulldozer came over and gave her some water, but she still would not get up. The young man was really great and when I asked him if he could carry her in to my apartment, he lifted her as though she was a puppy!!!! It took a while (with me watching her practically every second) but she finally stopped with the panting and got up and took a long drink of water. As you can imagine, I was really upset over all this. My back was already giving me problems but after this little "adventure" it REALLY started hurting. It happened that I had an appointment with my Primary doctor, and he recommended that I go to a pain center-- like me, he does not want me to get really addicted to pain meds!!!!
Well after relaxing, taking Gabapentin and my pain meds, the pain has eased up somewhat. Hopefully I will continue my "adventure" in Paris tomorrow!!!
ttfn and toodle pip
Cookie's mum
Sunday, March 4, 2018
SOME OF MUM'S REMEMBERANCES FROM HER YOUTH
I finally got mum to agree to write about some memories from her youth (amazing that she can remember that far back -- ok mum sorry about that!!) I am going to pass the puter over to her -- let it rip mum:
Cookie's mum here-- OK you are forgiven for your comment about my age -- this particular memory is from when I was 17. I belonged to a Zionist youth organization -- Habonim (which means The Builders). I had gone on my second hiking/camping holiday to France and was having a pretty good time (aside from my tent flooding one night when in rained very heavily and some other minor problems). Anyway, a couple of days before we were due to leave Brittany, one of the boys in the group tripped over a guy wire to a tent and dislocated his knee. At the same time, I stood up and felt something in my right groin "rip" (I should mention that I had had a right groin hernia repair when I was about 5 or 6, so didn't think it could be that.) Anyway, because of the two incidents, the camp leader (Henry) called in a local doctor. It was kinda amusing/embarrassing for me. You have to remember that this was in 1959 and a "coed" camp was considered quite "forward" and it was assumed that we were sleeping coed too!!!! Anyway, when the doctor came, he realized that we were a group of Jewish kids and he "confided" in me that he was Jewish too, but given that it was not too long after WWII, no one in the village knew -- Apparently that was common in the small towns in France and most of Europe at that time still. But that was not the funny/embarrassing part -- because of the pains I was having he started asking questions. (I did not realize it at the time but I had the symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy.) First of all he asked how many times I had been pregnant -- I answered "none". Then he asked me about having intercourse -- when I again answered "none" and he looked amaze and asked if I was sure!!! Again you have to remember this was in 1957 -- France was far more free and easy than England, but still...... Anyway because of Melvin's dislocate knee, it was decided to take both of us to the local hospital. The "ambulance" was a converted Citroen with barely enough room in the back. I ended up sitting (or rather lying) on Henry's lap and he was holding on to Melvin's leg to make sure it would not be jolted around. This turned out to be a wise decision on his part!!! We were up in the mountains and the road twisted and turned and I swear the driver was a drunken/frustrated race car driver!!!!! Anyway we got to the hospital ok. When we got there, I was "examined" by several (I presume) doctors who poked and prodded me until I threw up. Henry was translating for me. Anyway they decided to keep me in the hospital. While we were in the elevator going up -- the person who was with us started asking Henry if they knew what was wrong. I looked at Henry and told him that if this guy even considered touching me I would scream bloody murder!!!! Of course Henry translated a little bit differently! I was taken to a ward with 3 other women -- I assumed it was an ob/gyn ward, but because no one spoke English and I did not speak that much French, I had no way of making sure! There were no curtains, and turned out that the bedpans were on the bedside tables and the women used them and put them back and eventually they would be emptied. The following morning, as I customary in Europe, the doctor came around with his entourage of Matron, Sisters (this happened to be a catholic hospital) and nurses. When they came to me -- again remember there were no curtains or screens -- the doctor started to do an internal exam and they realized I had a tampon (I was close to the end of my period). Matron very disgustedly pulled it out and threw it away. There was a bit of conversation between them which I did not understand!!!! I made sure that they knew that I had a congenital hole in my heart cos I knew that if I had anything serious I needed antibiotics. The entourage finally left. Shortly after two nurses brought up my rucksack which had been delivered to the hospital. A couple of hours later, they told me to get dressed and come with them. My rucksack was not too heavy, but I was still kinda weak and had not really eaten anything, but I had to carry my rucksack down by myself. They took me to the Hospital administrator's office -- apparently someone from the camp was coming to escort me (and Melvin) to Paris. While waiting for Ezra, the administrator brought his teenage son,, who was learning English in school into supposedly help interpret. Well, between his high school English and my high school French, we did not get far!!! Finally, Ezra showed up. Long and short, they gave us some lunch (which I promptly threw up) and we finally made it to the train. When we got there and the French porter realized that I could not really walk (I did not have shoes, just some heavy socks) he wanted to carry me to the compartment. Ezra finally convinced the porter that was not necessary and we got settled on the train.
I don't remember how long the train trip was, but I was VERY glad when we finally reached Paris. We were staying at a youth hostel. That night we all went to the Folies Begere. About halfway through I was starting to feel really ill. There was another couple who were going back to the hostel early and I went with them. I had a very rough night and the following morning it was decided to take me to the British Military Hospital. Henry came with me again. To cut a long story shorter I passed out when I was having x-rays done so they decided to keep me in. It was nice to hear English being spoken again. The ward I was in was much nicer than the French hospital. I also discovered that the food was excellent and was like a French restaurant!!!! Anyway the doctor was a Major in the british army and one day when he came around he sent everyone out of the room and started asking me the same questions the French doctor asked me about pregnancy, etc -- but he had the decency to be embarrassed about it and at the end more or let let out a sigh that my answers were all negative. I ended up being there 3 weeks and they did some exploratory surgery (I think they expected to have to do a D and C). At the end of this they told me that right ovary had twisted and ruptured and was putting pressure on my bowels and bladder. They wrote to the hospital in the UK and they could not get me back soon enough. Turns out when I had had some tests there a year earlier but because I was a single girl of 16 they would not do anything, but "wait and "see!! I was getting injections of major doses of antibiotics too. Melvin had been able to fly home, but I was unable to so I was stuck there. The rest of the camp had gone back to London leaving me on my own. The almoner came up a couple of time to ask about insurance and payment. I was writing to Ezra and finally insisted they send the insurance info to the hospital. I got a chatty letter from him and in the midst of it he casually mentioned that because I had not been "injured" by something at the camp I was not covered!!!! I was really upset and crying my eyes out. When the Major came in, he asked why I was so upset, and I told him. Again, he sent everyone out of the room and told me not to worry because there was a fund for UK citizens like me and that I should ignore any monetary demands from the hospital. WHEW what a relief.
As I said I was there for 3 weeks and then transferred to London for surgery. I will tell the rest of the story in a day or two.
Back to Cookie
Cookie here -- wow mum what a trip yo had. I am exhausted from this much. Am going back to my nap.
ttfn an toodle pip
Cookie
Cookie's mum here-- OK you are forgiven for your comment about my age -- this particular memory is from when I was 17. I belonged to a Zionist youth organization -- Habonim (which means The Builders). I had gone on my second hiking/camping holiday to France and was having a pretty good time (aside from my tent flooding one night when in rained very heavily and some other minor problems). Anyway, a couple of days before we were due to leave Brittany, one of the boys in the group tripped over a guy wire to a tent and dislocated his knee. At the same time, I stood up and felt something in my right groin "rip" (I should mention that I had had a right groin hernia repair when I was about 5 or 6, so didn't think it could be that.) Anyway, because of the two incidents, the camp leader (Henry) called in a local doctor. It was kinda amusing/embarrassing for me. You have to remember that this was in 1959 and a "coed" camp was considered quite "forward" and it was assumed that we were sleeping coed too!!!! Anyway, when the doctor came, he realized that we were a group of Jewish kids and he "confided" in me that he was Jewish too, but given that it was not too long after WWII, no one in the village knew -- Apparently that was common in the small towns in France and most of Europe at that time still. But that was not the funny/embarrassing part -- because of the pains I was having he started asking questions. (I did not realize it at the time but I had the symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy.) First of all he asked how many times I had been pregnant -- I answered "none". Then he asked me about having intercourse -- when I again answered "none" and he looked amaze and asked if I was sure!!! Again you have to remember this was in 1957 -- France was far more free and easy than England, but still...... Anyway because of Melvin's dislocate knee, it was decided to take both of us to the local hospital. The "ambulance" was a converted Citroen with barely enough room in the back. I ended up sitting (or rather lying) on Henry's lap and he was holding on to Melvin's leg to make sure it would not be jolted around. This turned out to be a wise decision on his part!!! We were up in the mountains and the road twisted and turned and I swear the driver was a drunken/frustrated race car driver!!!!! Anyway we got to the hospital ok. When we got there, I was "examined" by several (I presume) doctors who poked and prodded me until I threw up. Henry was translating for me. Anyway they decided to keep me in the hospital. While we were in the elevator going up -- the person who was with us started asking Henry if they knew what was wrong. I looked at Henry and told him that if this guy even considered touching me I would scream bloody murder!!!! Of course Henry translated a little bit differently! I was taken to a ward with 3 other women -- I assumed it was an ob/gyn ward, but because no one spoke English and I did not speak that much French, I had no way of making sure! There were no curtains, and turned out that the bedpans were on the bedside tables and the women used them and put them back and eventually they would be emptied. The following morning, as I customary in Europe, the doctor came around with his entourage of Matron, Sisters (this happened to be a catholic hospital) and nurses. When they came to me -- again remember there were no curtains or screens -- the doctor started to do an internal exam and they realized I had a tampon (I was close to the end of my period). Matron very disgustedly pulled it out and threw it away. There was a bit of conversation between them which I did not understand!!!! I made sure that they knew that I had a congenital hole in my heart cos I knew that if I had anything serious I needed antibiotics. The entourage finally left. Shortly after two nurses brought up my rucksack which had been delivered to the hospital. A couple of hours later, they told me to get dressed and come with them. My rucksack was not too heavy, but I was still kinda weak and had not really eaten anything, but I had to carry my rucksack down by myself. They took me to the Hospital administrator's office -- apparently someone from the camp was coming to escort me (and Melvin) to Paris. While waiting for Ezra, the administrator brought his teenage son,, who was learning English in school into supposedly help interpret. Well, between his high school English and my high school French, we did not get far!!! Finally, Ezra showed up. Long and short, they gave us some lunch (which I promptly threw up) and we finally made it to the train. When we got there and the French porter realized that I could not really walk (I did not have shoes, just some heavy socks) he wanted to carry me to the compartment. Ezra finally convinced the porter that was not necessary and we got settled on the train.
I don't remember how long the train trip was, but I was VERY glad when we finally reached Paris. We were staying at a youth hostel. That night we all went to the Folies Begere. About halfway through I was starting to feel really ill. There was another couple who were going back to the hostel early and I went with them. I had a very rough night and the following morning it was decided to take me to the British Military Hospital. Henry came with me again. To cut a long story shorter I passed out when I was having x-rays done so they decided to keep me in. It was nice to hear English being spoken again. The ward I was in was much nicer than the French hospital. I also discovered that the food was excellent and was like a French restaurant!!!! Anyway the doctor was a Major in the british army and one day when he came around he sent everyone out of the room and started asking me the same questions the French doctor asked me about pregnancy, etc -- but he had the decency to be embarrassed about it and at the end more or let let out a sigh that my answers were all negative. I ended up being there 3 weeks and they did some exploratory surgery (I think they expected to have to do a D and C). At the end of this they told me that right ovary had twisted and ruptured and was putting pressure on my bowels and bladder. They wrote to the hospital in the UK and they could not get me back soon enough. Turns out when I had had some tests there a year earlier but because I was a single girl of 16 they would not do anything, but "wait and "see!! I was getting injections of major doses of antibiotics too. Melvin had been able to fly home, but I was unable to so I was stuck there. The rest of the camp had gone back to London leaving me on my own. The almoner came up a couple of time to ask about insurance and payment. I was writing to Ezra and finally insisted they send the insurance info to the hospital. I got a chatty letter from him and in the midst of it he casually mentioned that because I had not been "injured" by something at the camp I was not covered!!!! I was really upset and crying my eyes out. When the Major came in, he asked why I was so upset, and I told him. Again, he sent everyone out of the room and told me not to worry because there was a fund for UK citizens like me and that I should ignore any monetary demands from the hospital. WHEW what a relief.
As I said I was there for 3 weeks and then transferred to London for surgery. I will tell the rest of the story in a day or two.
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Cookie here -- wow mum what a trip yo had. I am exhausted from this much. Am going back to my nap.
ttfn an toodle pip
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