5 posts tagged “sick”

I'm now back in Paris, having arrived Sunday morning. And it's so hard.

My mom had a major stroke, with no warning. Five weeks beforehand we were hiking over waterfalls in Morocco, and now . . . I don't want to be too specific, as my mom is a very private person, so I'll just say that she's making progress, but it's slow, as apparently most strokes are. My mom is young and healthy, so we're hoping she'll make a full recovery, and she's in one of the best rehab clinics in the country. The problem is she's been there almost a month now, and she desperately wants to go home.

My trip to New York was originally going to be just over two weeks, and I extended it to four. Most of that time was spent at the hospital, from 3 to 8 hours a day. I was able to see most of my friends (Jeff and Josh, you're up first next time!), which was fantastic. I really felt supported and loved by all my friends who made time to see me, planned special events near the hospital so I could attend, and sent their love and prayers to room 110A. Every bit helped, so thank you all.

My trip was obviously not the vacation I was expecting it to be. Passover, instead of the elaborate, hours-long meal it normally is, was different but no less meaningful this year. We read the prayers and sang the songs and drank grape juice next to my mom's hospital bed. As the youngest, I sang the Four Questions and made everyone listen to me sing Chad Gadya in Aramaic. I really love that song. I got my hair cut, and went shopping at Old Navy, and attended my 10-year high school reunion (pics to come!), but my mind was always with my mom.

Making the decision to come back was really hard. And leaving her that day to go to the airport was one of the hardest things I've ever done, if not the hardest. My mom is my best friend, and I love her so much. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful relationship with her, and to know that we love and respect each other both as mother and daughter, and as two women who can make each other laugh.

I talked to a lot of people about what to do: my therapist, my mom's friends, her doctors, my friends . . . and everyone told me that I have to continue my life. And my life is in Paris, as crazy and random as that may be. My dad actually flat out told me that I couldn't stay by saying, "I won't have your life turn into a Victorian novel, with you as the spinster who gives up her life to take care of her ailing mother!" To which I replied, "I'm only 28! I'm hardly a spinster."

Living at home with my dad, just the two of us, was really good. We had just spent a lot of time together in January, obviously, but I think it was important for both of us to have someone to say goodnight to. And to share dog-walking responsibilities! I swear, Teddy is the cutest thing in the world, and kept us both laughing every day. Look at my little muffinhead!

My sister and I worked very well together, sharing the jobs that come with a sick family member, while dad took care of insurance, doctors, and paperwork. Mom was never alone, due to our constantly emailing schedules back and forth. We alternated nights, so that each of us could get some time with our friends, and dad filled in when we both had plans. And now I left it all to them, and I feel so incredibly guilty.

I call a few times a day, but mom has up to six hours of rehab therapy every day, and in between she tries to grab naps. So even when I'm able to get hold of her, we can only talk for a few minutes. And I miss her terribly.

How do I do this? How do I just continue on with my life here, knowing that dad and Tessa are still at the hospital daily? How do I leave my mom to battle this without me? If anyone has advice, I could really use it right about now.

The sky in Paris has been AMAZING this week. Granted, I've barely been outside, what with being STILL F**KING SICK! Turns out I have sinusitis, which is total bullcrap. My sinuses feel fine! I'm not sure how much I trust SOS Médécins, since I've now taken 3 doses of antibiotics and still feel sick. Not to mention the cortisone pill and cough syrup he prescribed. The upside to being so sick is that I have a doctor's note to miss school for tomorrow AND Wednesday. Score! Only 4 hours of teaching this week, for the price of 12. Ding ding ding!

Oh right, the sky. I first noticed it yesterday, when I went to the 24-hour pharmacy on the Champs Elysées to pick up my scrips. It had been raining, which I didn't realize, what with not going outside at all, so the sky was that weird yellow-grey it gets before a storm. I looked up, and saw a huge rainbow over Avenue des Ternes. Then, when leaving the pharmacy, I noticed that a whole bunch of people were standing around gawking at the Arc de Triomphe. Well, there are always people gawking at it, but when I turned to look, I saw why. The whole sky from Etoile to La Défense was like a painting. There were heavy purple-grey clouds from the tops of the buildings down to streetlight level, where the sky then became an intense, bright pink. Up above it was pale blue, and the whole effect, with the grey stone everywhere, was just amazing. As I walked around the circle the pink faded, until all that was left was dark grey clouds and light grey stone, and I realized once again how beautiful Paris is.

Today there was yet another rainbow, on my way to the laundromat, and then a sun shower which was very pretty, although cold. My sole excursion for the day was meant to be seeing Juno with Anna, but my laundry situation had become pretty dire, so I had to add that to the list. There are always cute boys in my laundromat who ask me how to use the machine. Aren't they supposed to follow up their questions with an invitation to take a coffee in the café across the street? Is that just in romantic comedies? Tant pis . . .

I had to have a little talking to with the workmen in the apartment below mine. I totally understand and expect construction noise. What I will not put up with is bad pop radio. I swear, it's like Britney Spears is chilling in the corner. It was just SO loud I could hear the yearning through my ear plugs. When I (nicely) asked them to turn it down, they immediately did so. Unfortunately I could see behind them into the apartment, which is a total disaster. It looks like they're just knocking shit down willy-nilly. I think I'm in for a long haul, big-boomy-noise-wise.

Also, they're banging so hard that soot is leaking down from my closed-off chimney. Is this normal?

Unbelievably, I am fighting off a cold. I spent all of November sick, and can't believe my body is ready for more. I never get sick this often in New York. I know that there are different germs here, ones that my body is not used to, but still. Shouldn't all the wine and cheese and croissants help fight them off? I think a trip to the sauna at my new gym is in order.

So I'm wrapped up on my couch, eating clementines and reading a manuscript for my new job. Later on I'm meeting with a woman about my new Business English client, so she can fill me in on his level and interests. I meet with him Wednesday for the first time, right after my first appointment since May with the hot pilot! I'm very much looking forward to seeing him again.

The good news of the day, however, is that the name change documentation proved sufficient for the jerks over at the prefecture, and my recipisse was mailed out on the 10th. I still don't have it, since I'll have to go to Michel's office to pick it up, but at least I know it's on the way. And Mme. Dionis said that my appointment to pick up my carte de sejour should be in the same envelope. Whoopee!

Man, I have a crazy craving for brownies.

Today was a very strange day. I was happy when I got a call last night from Catherine, the head English teacher at the good school, saying that instead of teaching today I was going to be chaperoning a group of 4eme (8th graders) to the movies. I helped herd around 75 screaming tweens from one side of Paris to the other and back, to watch one of the most disturbing movies ever.

Now, there are thousands and thousands of movies out there. Many of them are appropriate for 12-13 year olds. Ken Loach's My Name is Joe, however, is not one of them. Boasting drug use, addiction, and dealing, alcoholism, extreme violence including wife beating, prostitution, sex/nudity, suicide, and no fewer than 230 uses of the word "fuck," I have absolutely no clue why anyone would choose to show this movie to kids. Add in the incredibly difficult Scottish accent (I had an easier time reading the French subtitles than I did listening), and it was just downright stupid.

So that was weird.

Then I took a three-hour nap this afternoon by mistake. I know I set my alarm, but either it didn't go off or I turned it off in my sleep (the more likely option). Luckily I woke up to a telemarketer, although I have no idea how they got my number since it's brand new. Does France Telecom sell numbers here? How evil.

I trotted over to Benjamin's for weekly tutoring, and then home for dinner. After realizing that six days is too long to be in such (throat) pain that seems to be getting worse, not better, I called SOS Medecin. Any of you who saw Michael Moore's Sicko marveled at the French doctors who make house calls. The doctor who came to my house was super-nice and helpful, and told me I have a post-nasal drip with tonsillitis. He then prescribed four medications (four!), including an antibiotic. Ooh, and best of all, he gave me a doctor's note for the next two days. Score!

I adore French medications, as they're super-strong and easily accessible, what with at least three pharmacies visible from my windows alone.  I don't think I'm going to buy all four medications he prescribed, as that seems a bit excessive. I'm really glad to know that within 48 hours I'm guaranteed to feel better, though.

Anyone want to bring me chicken soup?

Recently, I seem to get sick whenever I return from a vacation. I was sick for the two days between Spain and Amsterdam, and now I've been hit by a whopper since getting back from Italy. It was delayed this time, but I've been out for the count since yesterday. I just woke up from a three hour nap!

I now have only four more classroom hours left in my contract, and I'm okay with that. I thought I would be sad, but I'm not. It was a bit strange being back in school the past few days, since it was my center for so long and now I'm saying goodbye. I cleaned out my cubby today, and recycled a huge stack of worthless paper.

Tonight is another goodbye, to Parisist. The site I've been writing for closed down a bit ago, and we're having a last hurrah for all the writers tonight. I'm especially bummed that I'm sick since I'll be missing out on free booze! I think I'll have to stick to soda in my current condition.

I'm taking pictures of the classes I like, and will post them here when they're all done. I'm upset that I forgot my camera today, because I really like the class I had (seconde 8, section 1). Especially Lucie, who always asks me where I went on vacation. None of my other students think to return the question, when I ask all of them what they did. Lucie is always the only one who says, "and Sophie, what did you do?" And Juliette, who always gives me the sweetest smile when she enters and leaves the classroom.

For my two classes tomorrow we're having good-bye parties. I bought chips and cookies, and they're hopefully bringing something, and we'll have a little celebration. I wonder if I can convince them to celebrate in English?