Well, you could say it's been a trying week if nothing else.....
After a rather busy week in England, shopping and seeing friends and family, we should have known that things were going to go down hill when it started snowing in London - everything comes to a standstill and nothing is simple. I had saved the buying of all my food and bits and pieces till the last day and of course by then the shelves in the supermarkets were bare as everyone in Britain decided to panic buy just in case it snowed for the next 200 days and everyone starved and the world as we know it came to an end.... indeed. So sadly I ended up with half the amount of food I wished for and just hoped and prayed that we would be able to fly from Heathrow. We called BA and were told that our flight was still on time and to come to the airport as normal. Why do we always believe them? So anyway, we rock up to the airport and there is a massive queue to drop your bags off as they have diverted all their staff into booking people onto other planes, the departures board has about 2 planes that are not cancelled, the rest is awash with red cancellation signs. So we go through security where I have Arthur's yoghurt and the cream for his bottom removed and taken away with the customs man muttering under his breath ' Even with all the signs they still try to bring things through..' to which I shouted back - ' that cream is solid, there is nothing liquidy about it, granted the yoghurt is liquid but that was just an over sight- I've brought that cream through before with no problems' - Again, why shout at a customs man - you are definitely not going to win the argument and they can do more things to you than you can do to them so eventually I slinked off with my tail between my legs - but seriously - it wasn't a liquid, it was solid! So we get through and then the delays start. Eventually they let us on the plane around 2pm (we arrived in airport at 10am) and then have the absolute joy of sitting on the runway in a queue for the de- icer machine for 3 hours. It amazed me that with so few planes flying, there was still such a wait for this bloody machine - what the hell would the wait time have been if there was a full schedule of planes? 7 hours? I actually felt sorry for the BA staff as they were trying their best to placate everyone and it certainly wasn't their fault - the airport had ground to a standstill and there was the smallest scattering of snow I have ever seen! In fact it was hard to find any snow without a microscope. So at 5pm we eventually took off, the air stewardess found us a row with 3 seats so that Arthur could have his own chair -
 |
| Cars always save the day...broom broom! |
So off we went, walking Arthur up and down the aisles, he even had a chat with Sophie Ellis-Bextor in First class - and then chats with all the air stewardesses. He did amazingly well for being on a plane for 7 hours, my iphone came in handy as I had downloaded lots of animal flash cards - it made me laugh every time he pressed one of the buttons and there was a loud 'quack quack' and you could see people looking around thinking they were maybe going slightly mad or maybe there was a horse, duck, chicken and goat on the flight....well, BA need all the passengers they can get these days, you can't be choosy in an economic crisis. We did eventually arrive back home in Moscow to a balmy -21. The taxi driver had blue hands having waited for 3 hours and then struggled to get all our luggage in to the car - the buggy ended up in the passenger seat with the handles sticking into the poor man's head, I think it was impossible for him to get to the hand break but then, who needs a hand break?
The next day, Graeme trotted off to work as normal but complaining of a sore leg. When he returned in the evening, he had developed two lumps on his thigh and was expressing that it was getting quite painful. We did the usual thing of questioning whether it was worth going to the clinic to check it out or maybe to wait until morning. In the end, after doing some internet research and talking to my mother we decided that he should walk to the clinic as it is only 10 minutes away. It was about 10pm so I stayed at home to look after Arthur. At about 11pm I receive a phone call from Graeme explaining that he is in an ambulance being taken to a main hospital on the other side of Moscow and that he has DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) and that the Doctors have him on a drip and that it is all very serious as he has two large blood clots at the top of his thigh. OH MY GOD! There is nothing so worrying as being stuck in a flat, in a foreign country, not knowing what the hell is going on and thinking the worst. Graeme said that they were going to scan his whole body to make sure there were no clots travelling to his heart, brain or lungs. I had no phone number for the place he was going to so I had to just sit in the flat and wait to hear from him. At about 1am he called to say that they were pumping him full of drugs, injections in his stomach and shoulder every hour and that they were going to scan him continually to make sure the clots didn't move - it was a waiting game basically. If this doesn't make you wear those stupid plane socks then I don't know what will! The doctors told him that if he had waited to come into the clinic the next morning then he probably wouldn't be here to tell the tale....not a thought I like to dwell on too long.
So, the next morning I had arranged for the nanny to come and look after Arthur all weekend and I set off to find the hospital. The hospital wasn't on any of my maps as it was too far from the centre so I googled it at home, wrote down a few street names and memorised the map...or at least I though i'd memorised the map. I came out of the Metro station and immediately turned the wrong way and so I was following my memorised map back to front. At this point it was about 9am - I had sent a text message to Graeme saying I was on my way...
After walking for what seemed like an age, I just couldn't find any of the roads I'd written down. I might add that I had to translate all the cyrillic and then see if they matched any of the stuff i'd written, but nothing was making sense. It had snowed during the night so walking through fresh snow is quite hard and I was getting tired, the temperature was about -15 and I couldn't put my gloves on because I needed to use my phone to try and use google maps - again, I thought I was somewhere else so the maps didn't make sense. I tried to stop a few Russians and ask directions but none of them seemed to know where the road was that I had written down - that should have given me a clue really. I stopped one man and struggled with my poor Russian for about a minute to which he then replied ' Oh sorry, I'm not from around here, I'm just staying at the hotel over there' in a broad American accent - why couldn't he have stopped me trying to speak Russian after a few seconds instead of watching me make a fool of myself for a minute?! I was now at a point of desperation and stopped two young Russian girls and asked for directions again, to which they laughed and ran off! At this point I started to cry and stamp my feet in the snow and was about to pick up some snow and hurl it their direction whilst screaming something extremely insulting but realised I was in the back streets of Moscow and probably would not win a fight even if it would make me feel better. Graeme called me on my mobile asking where the hell I was as it was now 11am to which I replied ' I don't fucking know!' in a rather pathetic, whining voice. My mobile then ran out of battery - I know, you couldn't write a better script....but I eventually stumbled upon the American hospital and ran in as if I'd been lost in Siberia for 2 weeks, muttering to myself 'Where is the European Medical centre? Please help me!' The lady printed me out a map with the comment ' Oh, you have a very long way to walk' - listen lady, don't say things like that, I'll end up throwing myself into a snow drift and be done with it! So back I walked, through the snow, still worrying that Graeme might be on death's door and I'm lost in the middle of God knows where. In these situations you realise how difficult things are when you don't speak the language, how alone you are in a big foreign city.
With the help of my map, I walked back past the Metro that I had exited two hours previously and found the European medical centre about 10 minutes away in the opposite direction...I know, what an idiot.
 |
| The EMC....at last. |
 |
| You can't all be as fashion forward as me you know.... |
So finally, I make it in to see the wounded soldier -
 |
| The leg in question.... |
I found his spirits to be high and after the initial chat I was then asked, 'did you bring my phone charger?' er, no, 'did you bring me some clean clothes?' er, no ' Did you bring me a tooth brush?' er, no....'Have you brought anything of use at all?' Er...no. So after taking 2 hours plus to get there and staying for 20 minutes to chat I then had to return home to collect said items that I had forgotten.....oh joy oh joy of joy. At least I knew where the bloody place was now though! On my return with all of the above, I even passed a macdonalds and bought two huge bags which I then felt the need to sneak into the hospital as was worried i'd be kicked out for bringing such filth inside such a clean establishment! This did bring a smile to Graeme's face so it was worth sticking the burgers down my trousers ; ).
 |
| Tea with the invalid... |
Having now been travelling to the hospital for a few days, I am starting to get to know the area and on my travels - usually in desperation to find some lunch other than bloody macdonalds I have taken a few pictures -
 |
| On the way to the hospital...strange building.. |
 |
| Rather pretty church... |
 |
| Walked through a market... |
 |
| Sadly didn't fancy any of this for lunch... |
I then walked round a corner and was faced with this -
 |
| I think this bus is lost...? |
On the side of the double decker it said 'Fish and Chips sold here' - well, what a very weird English experience you can have in the middle of no where! Oh and you see the pile of snow? Well, as it falls, the usual task force run out and clean it up into piles like so...Britain, watch and learn.
When I was on the Metro, I noticed that an animal had fallen from the ceiling and landed on this man's shoulder...I was going to point this out to the poor fellow but realised my Russian didn't stretch that far...
 |
| Russian fashion at it's best.. |
Having had a rather depressing few days, I realised that I had to go and get Alice a winter jacket as the dog walker had shouted in the usual frightening Russian way that my dog was shivering and couldn't cope with -20 and that she could only be walked in such weather for 10 minutes! I was told abruptly that I must go and get her a coat that goes all the way to her feet! So, in between hospital visits I rushed to a pet shop and found a rather fetching number in red, with pink fleece on the inside! Perfect for little southern softy Alice! Trying to get the bloody thing on her was a trial in itself, as I got one paw in, one came out and so this went on until I realized that you can tighten the legs with a draw string so that they can't get them off!
 |
| Come on Alice, see the funny side... |
I must admit to laughing for at least half an hour whilst Alice looked at me with pure venom...honestly, it was her that started the shivering nonsense and got me told off so she only has herself to blame...this over dramatic behaviour has consequences you know.
 |
| Still working on how the hood works.... |
She'll learn to love it...trust me!
I took her out in it this evening to collect Arthur from nursery and I must admit at least 5 people in the street laughed at her...heh - she has feelings too you know! She even went for a pee and it went straight through the hole designed for such a purpose - I was amazed! I expected it to all wind up in one of the trouser legs and then to stream onto the hall floor when I unzipped her! Genius, I love it! She was nice and toasty when I unzipped her at home so it is worth the laughter!
So, back to the hospitalised one...every part of his body has been scanned, he has been injected with metal and then put in an MRI machine - he said it was like being cooked in a microwave oven...his whole body started to heat up to an uncomfortable level. He has been injected in the stomach every hour and has downed 2000 pills. Today the cardiologist said that the clots are getting smaller and are dispersing - hurrah! He has been told that he cannot fly for 2 months and that he will be on blood thinning drugs for 6 months but the cardiologist commented that his recovery is excellent! Thank goodness for that. So, for those that think DVT will not happen to them, get out your flight socks, drink a glass of water every half an hour and do your in flight exercises as next time it could be you!
Arthur wrote a piece on the piano for his father - it's a modern piece, titled ' Daddy, when ya comin home cause Mama's ears hurt...'
He has also learnt the ' let's throw everything out of the cupboards' game but sadly mother is too tired to pick it up....hopefully Alice will do it.
I leave you with a parting shot of the hero of this story - a man that is proud of the amount of bandages he has on his body - so proud that he is taking photographs of himself in his hospital bathroom....we live and learn...
 |
| The white dress doesn't really do much for his legs... |
No comments:
Post a Comment