Wednesday, September 14, 2011

So Close!

Let me tell you a little story about well,  frustration mostly.
See, here in Wienerland,  we’re back to the routine of me being “chief cook and bottle washer”. (have to look up where that one came from) 
That seems to cover most everything.  I’m not kidding about the cooking.  It’s not five star.  I’m shooting for about three and a half.  Better than a lot of restaurants I’ve been to though.
Here are some gratuitous photos:
Turns out I’ve even been doing the “weekend meals” too! Harumph!  I’m supposed to get the weekends “off”.  Oh well.   This one was breaded chicken and grilled veggies.  The veggies look a little pale,  since there was a deal on Zucchinis.  I probably should have just bought one.

Then we have Mmmmmeatloaf.  

Along with our very last Slovenian tomato.  It was good though.


I happen to be able to make a damned fine meatloaf.  Unlike steak,  it IS something on which I will put ketchup.  This particular meal was pretty much a “no carb” meal.  That is,  with the exception of the glass of wine,  and there’s minimal carbohydrates in wine.   (It’s that whole cooking for a diabetic thing?)

Enough of the photos.
Then,  besides the cooking,  there’s most everything else.   I’ve mentioned the chauffeuring part,  but there’s also the idea that I have to make any and all appointments,  including those for hair or Doctor or what have you.   I’ve tried to point out that I’m not anyone’s secretary,  and both the doctor and the hair dresser do speak English.  The hair dresser not so much.  She and I stick to German.  The Doc is a professional though,  and I expect her to keep up.
So here’s the thing.   From time to time,  I have to queue up at the local pharmacy out here about 50 metres from our front door,  and fill a couple prescriptions.  See,  you can’t just wander in like at Walgreens,  or Shopper’s Drug Mart and buy your haemorrhoid cream off the shelf.  No no,  everything is in the back.  So in the case of the aforementioned haemorrhoid cream,  that means you’re pretty well letting everyone within earshot know that your butt hole is itching like a son of a bitch,  and you just need some salve. 
Yup, that can be such fun.   On a positive note,  the haemorrhoid cream they sell here is really “kick ass”.  Thank-you.  Thank-you.  Be sure and tip your server.

The other rather unfortunate aspect of this system is,  EVERYONE has to then wait to be served.  Whether it’s Tee Tree Oil,  Butt Salve or what have you,  it’s in the back.  This is why the place is always full of people.   They’re not really “busy”,  it just looks that way.
It’s a hell of a strategy really.  “Oh look how wonderfully busy we are!”   Right.

So that’s already frustration number one.  There are two items that I have to get.  I managed to get one.  The other had to be renewed by the doc.  This isn’t always the case.  I’ve been pleasantly surprised in the past to be able to take the prescription back in, time after time for something like a year and get the pills for Travelling Companion.    Then I struck out.   How was I supposed to know this?
So yesterday afternoon,  after a couple emails and phone calls,  I had to go see the doc so she could write a new prescription for Travelling Companion.   You may recall that Travelling Companion is,  wait for it,  travelling?  Unavailable.  Next week she’s in Italy.  Running out of pills.  Just a little tension there.

The doctor’s office isn’t THAT far from our front door,  but it’s Vienna.  Her office hours are from three to seven.  In any city you can think of, that’s rush hour.
Out of one whole long city block, there was actually one parking spot that I was able to nab (after doing a three point turn,  holding up traffic but I don’t care at this point)  and got myself into the doctor’s office.  This is another one of those typical locations in an old building (well,  like there are any new ones in Vienna?)  with a left and a right “Stiege” (staircase) will elevators that have been installed at some later date.  Sort of like stepping into an old movie set.  Maybe one of these times I’ll take a bunch of pictures when I’m in one of these places.  Our building is kind of like that, but not as elegant or dramatic.   The doc has some sort of Embassy across the way from her office.  La-di-da. 
No armed guard this time.
The first time when both Travelling Companion and I went there together,  there was actually an armed guard standing in the hallway.  A little unnerving,  but we’re sort of used to that kind of thing.   Sort of.
So fine,  had to sit in the waiting room for a couple minutes, (I mean, if you didn’t,  would it still be a real doctor’s office?  I don’t think so.)  and then got invited in to get my little piece of paper.  Well technically I suppose it’s not MY piece of paper,  but my problem none the less.  The doc did make some reference to the notion that, “You are retired,  aren’t you?”   Hm, I went along with that assessment. I really wanted to point out that technically,  I’m unemployed,  but whatever.  .
Managed to make my way back across town by using a couple of my own devious little short cuts (OK,  maybe blatantly obvious to anyone living here,  but I like to think I’m clever that way)  and once again took my place in the mob at the drug store, edging my way ever closer to the counter. 

They didn’t have it.

The young lad came back out from the never ending storage room in the back with three packages all right,  but I took one look and said, “Ne,  die sind zu stark”.  (those are too strong) since they were 1000mg,  and we’ve been getting 850.  Or something.  But not 1000.   He missed that part.
There’s such a thing as “hypoglycaemia”,   (as opposed to “hyperglycaemia”) which is what would happen is she took those.   (blood sugar too low)  We don’t want that. 

So the prescription will be in today after two.

They’ve got our money,  so let’s hope so?

Now I’m off to the airport.  Did I forget to say something about a new visitor?   Oh dear.


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Well, I've been getting too many spam comments showing up. Just a drag, so we'll go another route and hope that helps. So, we won't be hearing anything more from Mr. Nony Moose.
I guess I'll just have to do without that Gucci purse.