We Survived, but.... ick.

Holy Moly.

So, context-

In order to get our German Driver's Licenses we are required to take a First Responders class.  This is so that every driver in Germany knows what to do if they are in, or happen upon, an injury accident.  Not a bad idea, really.  Ours was taught by the Red Cross.  8:30-4:30 on a Saturday.  We had no idea what to expect. We prayed that there wouldn't be a test! I imagined it would be in a classroom, with audio-video presentations (I wondered what the German version of Red Asphalt might be like) and then probably some hands on training, as well. 

In actuality...

It was held in a small multi-purpose room in a building next to the Red Cross building, which houses all the local ambulances and is next to a hospital.  It reminded me of every small community center or church hall I have every been in that was built around the 1940s.  Big room with charming historic photos of community leaders, a few bizarrely incongruous oil paintings, and lots of stacked chairs.  There was a small entry room with bathrooms off the side and a small kitchen area where I am sure much cake and punch has been cut and poured.  The only difference between this and the American version was that the toilets had a viewing shelf, and, since every building has black-out shutters, the curtains didn't need to keep out light.  The curtains in such places in the states, as I recall, are usually that thick canvas coated with vinyl stuff so that you can do slide shows and show 8 MM films, right? Here they were a pleasant white lace covered with another layer of fabric displaying an atrocious large brown floral print.  I am pretty sure my grandma had a couch with that pattern in the 70's.

I was fully expecting that our classmates would mostly be teens- who else is getting their Drivers Licenses?  And, I was not mistaken.  One large group arrived surprisingly late and was dropped off en mass by a man I am guessing was their Driving School Instructor.  There was one other guy who looked to be over 40, and two women whose age was likely mid-20s, but everyone else were clearly in their late teens.  The 40-sumpthing guy was getting his Motorcycle License.  I guess he had to retake the class for that one.  In all there were 22 of us.  The instructor was a grizzled guy whom I am going to guess was a retired EMT.  He looked to be in his mid to late 60s.  He had stories to tell.

He had lots of stories to tell. 

In fact, that is all he did.  For the first 1.5 hours, he stood at the front of the room and talked.  He told us about how people didn't used to stop and help.  But, since it was important that we help, they started requiring these classes.  He told us how to use call boxes.  He also told us what information we needed to give the dispatcher on the other side.  And.... well, about an hour's worth of other stuff that I didn't catch because I STILL CAN"T SPEAK GERMAN!  I tried to understand.  I really did.  But, if I got 1/8th of what he said, I am lucky.  And, David. bless him, felt self-conscious, so he was loathe to whisper with me to let me know what was up.  Later I discovered that he didn't understand a lot of it either.  We both just wanted to sit and get through the day without too much hassle.

Blending.... Not

But, here is the thing.  Try as we might not to draw attention to ourselves, the instructor insisted on delivering his speech Directly. To. Us.   It was weird.  We just sat politely and nodded at appropriate times and chuckled when he indicated that he was making a joke.  We tried our best to blend.  We pushed down our "good student" instincts to answer questions (we couldn't figure out how!) and to engage the instructor too much.  But, he just honed in on us, and talked directly to us throughout.  We cringed silently, hoped he wouldn't ask us any direct questions, and wondered how the heck we had caught his eye.

The answer soon became clear to me as I allowed my gaze to flow around the room at the other students.  They all sat stone-faced, expressionless, and blank.  They all watched the instructor ceaselessly, but they would not respond!  I figured maybe this was the way German classes usually are?  Maybe you aren't meant to be so transparently, noddingly American.  But, then I saw the instructor grow annoyed with their inactivity.  He cursed that they didn't answer any of his questions and bemoaned the sad status of the German Schooling System. (hee) I remembered studies I had read in College about classes manipulating instructors by having 1/2 the room look engaged and attentive and the other half look distant and bored.  The Instructors would invariably move themselves over to teach almost exclusively to the engaged side.  David and I were inadvertently doing this- we were teaching the instructor through positive feedback that he should talk with us, and only us.  It was getting more than a little uncomfortable!  Having the full attention of the instructor is fine if you have a chance of understanding him.  Having his attention when you just need to slip quietly through class without his realizing you don't understand a word he is saying is not so desirable.

Rolling Drunks

I resolved to go through class more stoically.  But, before I could get my game face on, it was time for our first activity:  Rolling unconscious people over to protect their airway.  David thinks this is primarily for Drunk People, but since this was an auto safety course, I am going to assume it is protecting folks from more serious injuries- at least a little.  Everyone in the room paired off, then we went 2 by 2 and shook eachother, shouting "Hallo" at our less-than-conscious partners.  Next we propped up one their arms, stuck the other hand by the person's face, grabbed their far knee and FLOP! got them situated on their side.  Nice Judo, really!  But, it was silly and a bit undignified, so everyone giggled and just a touch of life began to show in the room.  Still, for over 2 hours of Lifesaving Class, this seemed pretty light weight.

Oh, I almost neglected to mention the High Tech Audio Video Extravaganza!  He had an overhead projector with a couple of transparencies with photos and a couple words on each.  He showed us someone going through the process of calling for help on an emergency phone, and a couple seemingly disconnected photos of a motor cyclist sitting injured after an accident.


Ah, wait- time for the next activity: 

Pulling a helmet off of an unconscious motorcyclist.  For this one, we all wore those attractive green  elastic and paper hats that ER workers and unfortunate food handlers everywhere get stuck with.  Then we wore the helmet and our partners pulled them off.  We realized too late that not everyone had to volunteer for this one.  The instructor stood over me.  "More, A little more, keep going."  I was supposed to slip the helmet back until David's head was just resting on the inside rim, then grab his head and support his neck.  "A little bit-" David's head dropped- just a little!  "GRRRR" he said.  I quickly grabbed the back of his head and eased it down to the mat, stifling a strong giggle along the way.  If the instructor noticed, he was mighty German about it!

Then it was back to the lecture.  This time I really had no clue what he was talking about.  There was an image of a business man who had fallen out of his chair.  But, if it was revealed what this had to do with accident response, I never figured it out.  The droning in German was starting to sound like a lullaby.  I needed a break!

Almost too late, he told us we could go to lunch.  We only had 40 minutes, but we figured we could get over to McDonalds and back.  I was starved and I didn't want to risk finding someplace new.  Over lunch, I told David of my observations about the teacher's attention to the two nodding Americans.  He agreed that we needed to blend better.  We headed back with intentions of sitting very, very still.

Only, something was wrong.  The doors were already closed.  Everyone was inside!  We looked at the clock as we entered.  It was 5 minutes later than our car clock!  We were late.  Everyone stopped as we walked in and stared at us all the way to our seats.  No one said anything.  We sat down quickly, and class resumed.  So much for blending.  Late is definitely *not* German!

Reanimation
On the bright side, it looked like we were set up to learn CPR.  Amusingly, the German term for it is "reanimation".  Chillingly, that term, if applied to the two extremely unnatural dummies now situated on the floor, would definitely start some serious nightmare time.  I was actually grateful they had no arms.  Ok, I have never used CPR dummies in the states (Annie came into vogue after my last CPR class).  But, these things have completely removable faces!  Each person changes out its "lungs" (a plastic bag with a valve closure).  And then they attach an entire fresh face- including the part that fits into the valve, which, incidentally, has the poor guy's teeth.

In any case, I figured we had blown our shot at anonymity, so, I decided to take a couple photos.

David inserting the lung bag

David doing CPR- you can see the brown floral curtains and a few bored Germans behind him.

Bag of faces.  And teeth.   Nothing creepy about that.

The CPR was fun and went well.  But, for the entire rest of the class to complete the training, it only took about an hour.  After that we still had 2.5 hours to go.  The first one was OK.  He told us a horror story about a woman who cut her finger and then had it get infected and the infection went into her blood and eventually into her brain.  "All because she didn't treat her finger cut properly!"  He had told other horror stories, but this was the first one my limited German allowed me to comprehend :-)   I felt proud.  (Hermosa Valley Middle School Alums- this guy could have given Mr. Arwine a run for his money on War Stories)  He showed us how to cut a butterfly bandage out of this cool bandage tape stuff I had actually never seen before.  It is about 3 inches wide with a strip of gauze padding down the middle and tape out an inch or so on each side.  You can cut your own band-aids to size.  Seemed remarkably practical and I wondered why the heck I had never had this stuff around!  Gotta get me some, now!

A bad time

After that, though, was one of the worst hours I have spent in a good long time.  Up until now, everything had been practical and tame.  Now it was time to leave us with an impression.  Though, honestly, I have no idea why this was the impression he wanted to leave.  He pulled out a stack of more transparencies.  But these were a little different.  German Red Asphalt, indeed.

It started with the breaks.  Only a few photos.  But each was left on the screen for several minutes while he told the story of the hapless patient whose injury we were witnessing.  Arms that looked like curved scythes, a wrist that was in no way still attached to its hand- complete with an X-ray, etc.  I started to squirm.  I am not unaccustomed to medical photos, but these were chosen for impact.

Then things got gruesome.  Burns.  And not just any burns.  4 of the 6 photos were children.  2 of those were babies.  Naked, and, yes, one of them was dead.  Not staged images.  No warning.  Real, dead and severely burned children.  Why the heck were we looking at these?  Awful.  And it isn't like we were learning something new.  He had told us how to treat burns in the first hour.  This was just torturous.  I had to work not to cry.  David abandoned all effort to remain unnoticed and said loudly, and in English "I didn't need to see that!"  He was squirming at least as much as I was.  I noticed that the younger students around me didn't respond the same way to these photos.  The next group upset them more.  I guess being a parent changes that sort of thing.

For me, the next set of photos was a relief.  Wounds.  Again, each had a story, and judging from the reaction of the other students (who did, I must note, react strongly), the stories must have been even worse than the images.  But,  they were adult victims and, thankfully, my lack of German skills served me well.  I looked away and let the words wash over me without comprehension.  David held my hand.  We were to the home stretch, but this whole bit was worse than we had bargained for.  Red Asphalt was cheesy and staged.  This was real, in our face and completely unpleasant.  I wanted the clock to move faster.

Finally, he put the transparencies away.  I wanted to tell him that after all that he really owed us an image of a cute puppy or something!  But, I couldn't remember the word for "puppy".  Drat.  A few more minutes discussion of putting pressure (not a tourniquet!) on small, but strongly bleeding wounds and we were done.  No test.  But, it was a grueling day anyways.  David and I were the only students in the room whose certificates he was able to distribute without asking for the name. Yeah, ok, we suck at blending!

But, one more set of essential German Paperwork acquired.  Another check in a box.  This week we need to get our Visas renewed as well as jumping through more DL paperwork, so, I guess the Paper Fairy will be getting a few more offerings from us before next weekend arrives.  Stay Tuned.

PS.  David tells me I didn't capture and convey how truly horrifying this day was.  But, there are some things I think you really don't need to experience vicariously quite so much!

In which Stephanie attends a Party and Gets an MRI

Party Party Party!!

So, let's see.  This week has been pretty interesting, I think. Though, we didn't travel or get a new car.  The main events were a party for David's workmate, Matthias, and my MRI and the aftermath.  I guess it makes sense to start with the partay!

Party at a Pool Hall

David's work moved to new offices in Offenburg this week.  That meant a significantly longer commute for some of the employees, and one or two opted out as a result.  David's closest work bud, Matthias, was unfortunately among this group.  He had been with the company for 2 years and he is well-liked, so they threw him a going-away shindig at a local pub on Thursday.  Despite the fact that I was fighting a cold and it was a school night, David thought it would be a great idea if we both went.  And, frankly, I was seriously craving some social contact, so I wasn't too tough to convince!  Though, my Inner Shy threatened to put up a bit of a ruckus early on, I shouted it down effectively and got myself tidied up and partified!

The party started at 8, so, for the first time ever, we hugged the kids, told them to put themselves to bed at an appropriate time, and headed out the door without a sitter of any kind.  Felt sort of good, really :)

We found the bar easily enough.  It is definitely what I would call a dive, but a pretty nice dive.  They have a few gambling machines in a corner, electronic darts and a row of billiards tables off to the side.  A tiny white fluffball of a dog ran up to us as we walked through the parking lot, wiggling her entire body in greeting.  Her extremely, er, European, older male owner shooed her into the bar.  Ok, not exactly like most billiards halls in the states, I think!  The dog and owner spent the evening with friends in the gambling part of the establishment.  We met up with David's co-workers near the bar and hung around the electronic darts board.  I could tell right away that this is the sort of party where people would be doing serious drinking.  Mostly because some of the folks were already a few sheets to the wind, and many others were talking about doing serious drinking!  David ordered a Diet Coke and I got what we eventually determine was a Panache- basically beer with a dash of lemon soda.  Almost everyone else was drinking beer- With the more inebriated folks adding in a little weed and/or shots on the side.  At least 1/2 the crowd smoked cigarettes, but the air flow made that less of a problem than I might have thought.    

The rest of the evening was divided between two activities- chatting happily with a few of David's co-workers, and watching an overlapping subset get quite drunk and stoned.  It has been a very long time since I was a party with late 20-somethings intent on chemical alteration.  To their credit, the Europeans were all pretty polite and responsible with their sloshitude, from what I could tell.  Well, most of them.  There was one rather unpleasant ex-employee who had come up from Swizzerland for the occasion and felt the need to make a show of his inebriation.  Otherwise, things were loose, but mostly mellow.

I spent much of the evening discussing US politics with a petite French man named Christophe who had spent several years living in Quebec.  As a father of three, he is definitely outside the main demographic of the group.  I spent a little time discussing life with one of the few other females present, a Spanish/French woman who had spent time in America and Portugal and Argentina, if I am remembering correctly.  I also chatted a fair bit with another of David's closer work-buds, Cay.  He has led a pretty interesting life even for the Spellbound crowd, with time in a Welsh boarding school, the German army and at Oxford for college.  He also won big points from me by going out of his way to make sure I understood things.  Actually, I was impressed by most of the multi-national crew.  These are well-traveled, smart folks with interesting lives and I enjoyed hearing their perspectives.

As a going-away gift, they gave Matthias a poster with a portrait of himself in a virtual environment they had made for a game.  Pretty nice gift, really.  He was well into the "I love ya, man" stage by the time we left- though, to be fair, David says that even sober he is usually pretty close to the "I love ya, man" stage, so it wasn't a far trip ;-)

We said our goodbyes around 11, just as the company president arrived with David's recruiter, Vladimir, in tow.  At that point, David suspected few people would drag into work the next day.  But, apparently most of them did show on time.  The day was devoted to packing and moving, though, so not too much heavy thinking involved! 

In the minus column, the late night gave my burgeoning cold a chance to take hold.  I have been sick ever since.  But, I think it was worth it.  I needed to social outlet, and it was fascinating to hang with these folks for a while!

As a side note, we got home to two snoozing kids, both in jammies and tucked away in bed.  DD says they stayed up about 1/2 hour past normal, but both got in bed by 9.  Good Job offspring!

Next up.....

The Shoulder Saga

So, I know you all have been following along with the fascinating saga of my shoulder.  But, just in case it hasn't stuck in your mind as much as it has in mine, here is a quick recap:

In early May, just before we got our car, I saw the bus we were trying to catch had already arrived at the bus station.  Not realizing that the buses wait to leave until their assigned time, I thought we were about to miss it.  So, I sent the kids ahead and dashed after them.  As I ran, I missed the curb and took a flying belly flopping skid onto the pavement.  I was like a penguin sliding on the ice, only the ice was pavement and my arm more jammed than slid.  The contents of my purse flew everywhere, and a very kind Frenchman with strong arms picked me up and set me upright.  I think it was his son who gathered up my things and returned them to me.  I was stunned for a moment, but, realizing the kids were on the bus without me, I brushed myself off and limped to the bus- which proceeded to sit for 5 minutes before taking off.  At home I realized the folly of tiny refrigerators and freezers- there was not enough ice to use to ice down my arm.  It took us 2 days to track down frozen peas- Sanja eventually brought some as a gift.  Very cute.  My shoulder hurt a lot, but I figured it would just heal and didn't worry much.  We didn't yet know how to use our insurance and I figured it was just one more hassle.

2 months later, it still hurt and we knew how to use our insurance.  So, we got me a referral to an orthopedist.  At this point, I realized that I couldn't lift my arm to the side or above my shoulder in front.  2 months of physio therapy helped, but not enough.  Range of motion was improved, but only a little.  The doctor decided we needed a look inside.  1 more month to get the MRI set up.  Which brings us to 1 week ago!

The MRI

Sort of looks like it is sticking its tongue out at you!

This was my first MRI so I wasn't sure what to expect. I guess there isn't a full story to tell in the MRI itself, but I will share a couple of quick observations:

1. If a German office asks you to bring a piece of paperwork, bring it.  We lost our referral slip and while they accepted a faxed copy as authorization, we had to run over to my ortho's office before it closed in order to get an original copy for the MRI place.
2. Anywhere in the US where they would give you a modesty gown for a medical procedure, expect to go nekkid in Germany.  They just don't much see the need to cover up... At least not up top!
3. That little tube is really quite small.  I imagine some of the larger Germans I have seen simply would not fit. 
4. MRIs are LOUD.  I mean, REALLY LOUD.  They gave me insulated headphones playing music (jazz first, then some sort of tribal drums).  But, whenever the machine was on, it was impossible to hear anything else.  It sounded like I was sequentially being moved through a spaceship battle, a forklift, and then a tractor engine.  It made me wonder if a bit of WD40 and a couple heavy duty ballbearings might not be a good holiday gift for the staff!
5. Sitting still for 20 minutes is really hard.  Even though they strapped my injured shoulder into position, I was down to the wire in my ability to hold position by the end.   
6. None of this futzy-dutzy "we know what it says but we won't tell you" crapolla here.  The radiologist called us in 5 minutes after my procedure and told us that I had clearly ruptured my tendon and that I would need surgery.  He did say that he wasn't the one who needed to tell me that I would need surgery.  But, he had no question about it at all.  I got the impression that he liked getting to talk with people.  Reading films all day has to be a bit lonely! 

Monday was the anniversary of German Reunification (a national holiday), so the soonest time I could get in to see Dr. Meiworm was Tuesday.  I gotta tell you, that was easily THE busiest I have ever seen a doctor's office.  Lines of mostly elderly people out the door.  I am not sure what they were all doing there.  Various therapies and such, I think, because I don't imagine they could possibly have all been there to see the doctors.  There are three doctors in the practice and given that Meiworm spent the better part of an hour with us, it seems unlikely his partners could have shuffled them all through!  In any case, it was largely a moot point for us because we got there before the rush and then the doctor made sure we got what we needed after that.

Getting technical for a bit, sorry!

As with most of my visits with German doctors, there was no exam.  He sat us down and showed us the films and used a model to help him explain.  Actually, it was funny, when we first arrived he was so intent on getting us the information that he forgot to speak in English and we had to politely stop him and remind him that our German was not good.  He explained that I have a complete, full thickness rupture of the supraspinous tendon, a partial rupture of er, I think the infraspinous tendon, and possibly a partial tear of the bicep tendon  The rupture is the full width of my humerus.  In the picture below, you can see whiteness where the purple arrow is pointing.  That is fluid filling the space where my tendons should be.   Ewww.

That white space is where my tendon is supposed to be.

So, yeah.  Surgery is really my only hope of recovering function and reducing pain.  On the up side, I should be OK in terms of muscle atrophy for now.  Even though the muscle hasn't been used for 5 months, it still has another 6 or so before it starts turning to fat.  Lovely!  The procedure is done arthroscopically.  They will need to make up to 5 incisions to get in there and do their work.  They will use tiny rivets to attach the tendon to the bone and wires for support.  David was disappointed that these will apparently not set off metal detectors at the airport! I just had a passing thought, as well.  I wonder if I will ever be able to get another MRI?

The weird one, though, is that if the bicep tendon is involved they will do a rather non-intuitive repair.  Apparently too many people wind up with pain if they try to reattach it up at the shoulder, so they cut the tendon up above and then reattach it lower, in the groove of the bone.  He says that this causes no reduction of strength, but that in some cases it can cause the slightly lowered bicep to look a little funny.   Not super-thrilled with my options there, but I do prefer the lack of pain.  Hopefully, it won't be an issue since they cannot tell for sure with the MRI if the bicep tendon is damaged or not.

We decided to schedule the surgery for the 25th.  The kids both have vacations at the end of October/beginning of November, so David will not have to drive them through that.  Also, it is soon, but there is still a chance that I will be able to get my Drivers license dealt with before going out of commission for six weeks.... Oh yeah, didn't mention that part.  One night in the hospital followed by 6 weeks of immobilization of my shoulder.  They will give me a cushion to hold my arm out away from my body and a sling to keep it from rotating out more than 90 degrees, since then it tends to re-rupture the tendons!  So, no driving for 6 weeks.  DOH.  I am the main driver for the family, so this is going to be a major issue.  The mornings aren't so bad, but pick up times are heck!  But, he tells me I should be able to type, still, so that will mean I can both work and Blog!

During immobilization I will have "passive exercise" at the physio, and then once the sling comes off, the real work of rebuilding the muscle and range of motion begins.  3+ months of that.  Goal in the end is to have greatly reduced pain and full range of motion and strength.  But, as he kept cautioning us.  "This is not a new shoulder.  It is a repair."  I guess I am not supposed to look for 100%.

Other quick updates

DD has become disinterested with the silly German boys, though they persist in trying to entice her to watch their bizarre wrestling rituals.  She has, however, gotten a couple of kids from school to play her favorite online game (League of Legends).  She loves the overbearing French Teacher because she happens to be excellent at teaching French and DD really wants to learn.  She also loves Science and Ethics and she is doing quite well in Math.  Honestly, and I don't want to jinx it, she seems pretty happy at Hogwarts.  Knock Wood.

DS has a new tutor.  She is freshly arrived from San Fran and says that he has made progress even in the last week.  So, yay.  Today he is having his first German Play Date (no, we are informed by his host, it is not a play date, it is a "chill date", "no play, Chiiilll"  Hee.).  Overall, I think he is making some progress.  He is establishing himself in the pecking order at school, and learning German as quickly as he can.  With 6 hours of one on one lessons per week, plus complete immersion the rest of the time, he should be fluent before I can talk like a 3 year old!

David's work just moved to Offenburg this week.  The building is far from finished, but the location is hugely more convenient for us.  So, more stories there as we go!

Apparently we are easily recognizable even here.  One of the office workers taking her break downstairs stopped us yesterday to tell us she had seen David with his work group out at a local restaurant!

Small slice of life- living with poor language skillz

I needed to pick up a translation of our drivers licenses from the local AAA equivalent, called ADAC.  Now this is a document we hired them to produce.  It is required for our German licenses and David just got the call from them that it is ready to be picked up.  He asked if I could pick it up for him and they told him yes.  This happened about an hour before I arrived.

First I get there and the only parking available has a big sign that says  "Nur fur Besucher Marlener strasse 6".  Oh crap.  I have to go through my head and figure out it is "only for... um, Besucher?  *probably* means me."  I check the address at the ADAC office and it is, in fact, number 6.  Ok, so I am gonna risk it. I walk up to the building.  The first door I reach apparently isn't a door.  It has a little arrow that says "einfang" and points to the right.  So I go to the next door.  Which also has a little arrow pointing to the right.  But there is no other door... except the one that leads into the bowels of the building.   I look puzzled and try the non-door anyways.  Nope.  Back to the bowels.  Ah, that is the right one.  I go in there and turn the corner and find the correct office.

Inside, there are two woman bustling about morning chores.  I have no doubt they just watched me seriously fumble my door roll. The one at the desk tells me "ein moment", then she walks away and semi-turns to tell me something that seems vaguely beckoning.   She is inside a large circular desk and there are no other customers to indicate where I should stand.   I step up to where she was standing before.  But, she walks back to a place completely different and waves me over with a slight chuckle.  By now I am keenly aware that I look like a boob.  I approach the desk with some small modicum of self-effacing dignity in time for her to say something else I can't make out.

I say as clearly as I can "Ich bin hier fur eine Übersetzung fur Herr Paris, bitte".  (I am here for a translation for Mr. Paris, please) 
She smiles and nods and say "Ja".
Now, at this point, you must understand, I was expecting her to hand me something.  So, I try again.
 "Eine ubersetzung fur Paris?"
She nods and asks me a question... something about do I have something?  Doh.
 At this point I am thinking I am supposed to have a receipt - or maybe she just thinks I am there to start the process?   I start to panic a little.
"Mein Deutsch is nicht gut!  Er...." I stammer desperately, and I hand her my cheat sheet with "eine Übersetzung fur Herr Paris" written on it.
"AH!! So!!" she says, brightly.  She walks over, picks up a pile of papers and brings them back.  I see one says "Herr Paris" on it, and the rest look official.  She folds them and puts them in an envelope for me and I smile and nod and thank her.
Then I depart as hastily as I can without knocking anything over.  I try a few "schönen Tag"s over my shoulder for good measure.   Yipes!

Ok, that was the least comfortable exchange I have had in a good long while. But, David claims this is a near-daily event for him.  He does typically get stuck with our more challenging language interactions, so I guess I get it easy.  Oof.  I soooo need German Lessons!

Ok, so I am a little behind

And apparently people have noticed.  Honestly, it has been a thick week to process, though not an easy one to write about in an interesting fashion.  But, hey, I am game if you are!

When last we left our merry band, DD had been doing well at Hogwarts, but was a bit overwhelmed with the Language aspect, and DS had struggled through his first week at Durmstrang, finding a few friendlies along the way.  DH and I were fretting over transportation issues.  And the weather was just starting to get an autumnal edge to it.

So lets get caught up!

Transportation: 

DH finally managed to track down a local driving school that can speak a bit of English and get us set up for our Driver's licenses.  We went and talked with the pleasantly flustered gentleman who runs the school and he took down all our info and researched things for us.  He mostly spoke in German, but was able to understand me when I did not.  We spent a busy morning attending to some of the hoop-jumping that is necessary.  We got our photos taken, our eyes tested (I passed, but it is clear that I need new glasses!) and we found a place that will translate our CA DL's for us and got that process started.  We also got signed up for our First Response Safety class (what to do if you happen upon an accident).  Unfortunately, it is in German, but it is hoped that if I take it with David we will be able to muddle through.  Other than that all we need is to take the written test, take a couple actual driving in a car classes to make sure we have all the weird little things down pat, then take our actual driving exams and, knock wood, we should be in.

The other issue, of course, is finding a second car.  David has been researching, writing and calling a bunch of private sellers, but so far there are a lot fewer options this time around than last time.  And, the places he has managed to get ahold of have all already sold the vehicles.  So, we forge on.  I really want to get this dealt with ASAP.  Our life is complicated enough without adding hours of train rides and weather issues to the mix every day.  Also, last week I got a migraine for 2 days, which meant I was not able to drive.  But, I still had to drive up to David's work in order to get him the car so he could pick up kids.  Would be safer if he already had a car there with which to make the runs.  Most of the cars in our price range are very much like the one we already have.  Small, hatchback, practical without much personality.  But, we did find one very cool car in the mix.  It isn't really practical because it has terrible gas mileage, but I am sort of in love anyways.  It is a black, Fiat Stilo Abarth.  David's dad used to collect Abarths, so it caught our eye immediately.  Creamy beige leather interior.  And the weirdest dang sunroof I have ever seen.  It sort of fans back, creating what looks like a series of spoilers across the top of the car.  Also, it is an automatic so I could even drive it!

I cant find an image that shows the sunroof correctly.  The rear section is like 5 layers and looks seriously bizarre.

Unfortunately, the gas mileage makes it pretty much a no go, but, sigh, a gal can dream! 


Durmstrang:

By the end of the first week, DS's school had hired a tutor to teach him German during the other students' English classes.  They had also set him up with an after school tutoring program where older students help the younger ones.  By the end of the second week, they called us again.  This time they had set up a second tutor to come in and teach DS during the after school programs.  But, this one we would have to pay for.  A quick email to the Grandmas and we got a tutoring sponsor (Thanks Great-Grandma Connie!).  So, now DS will have about 6 hours per week of one on one German lessons.  I was supposed to go in on Friday and meet with the new tutor, but somehow the info got confused.  DS and I wandered the school for a while before ending up in the Headmistress's office.  She confirmed with me that we were interested in getting it all set up, and will meet with DS and the new tutor after school Monday to make sure it is all flowing correctly.

Honestly, DS is still having the most trouble adjusting.  He mostly likes having other kids to hang with.  But, he is definitely still stressed a lot of the time.  Last weekend he had a major tantrum and David opted to take him running as a response.  They ran for the better part of 3 hours.  David was SORE for the next 3 days! But, it seemed like a positive way to get some of that crud out of DS's system in a healthy way.

Friday was another rough day for DS.  This time he didn't have a tantrum, but some kids at school discovered that he didn't like the nude pictures in the text book, so spent time shoving them in DS's face.  He, unfortunately, responded emotionally.  I fear that temperament-wise, DS is not very German, and this may prove a challenge for him going forward.

Hogwarts:

In the mean time, DD reported having a few clashes with one particular teacher at Hogwarts.  Given that she has between 11-12 teachers (one is stepping in temporarily for some extra French tutoring), the fact that there is only one with whom she seems to have had personality conflicts is hugely encouraging.  But, she requested that we help her in finding healthy ways of communicating with this teacher.  So, we started by writing a note to request a meeting. Coincidentally (or not?) that same evening is scheduled a "Parent Teacher Meeting".  This turns out to be Hogwarts' version of ...

Back to School Night

The meeting is scheduled from 6-8.  We show up a few minutes early and make our way into the room designated.  It is in the new building in the middle of the campus.  Simple white and blue desks and relatively human-sized chairs allow parents to sit in semi-comfortable ease.  There are about 8 parents there when we arrive, and about double that trickle in over the course of the next few minutes.  It is an interesting group as we are about to discover.  We sit several rows back in the middle of the room.

A tall, attractive, slightly-greying, unadorned, formidable woman with a low voice and an American accent greets us.  She has intelligent eyes, a confident, self-deprecating, slightly sarcastic edge to her, and a pleasantly straight-forward communication-style.  I like her right away.  This is Ms. Lustig, DD's homeroom and science teacher. She greets each parent, explaining her issues with face-blindness (though she never used the term) and asks them to identify their children and introduce, or re-introduce themselves to her.  Her banter goes something like this:
"And you are whose parents?  Ah of course!  Wonderful.  And, I am sure you have your own actual identity.  You aren't just 'Fred's Dad'"

A somewhat scraggly, tall gentleman with a twinkle in his eye comes in and sits at the back.  He introduces himself as being the father of one of DD's friendlies.  Ms. Lustig does her usual spiel.
"And I am sure you are not known as just 'Sebastian's father'!"
"No." He replies with a mischievous smile.
"You have your own name and Identity, I presume?"
"Yes, I do."
"Which is?"
"Different than my son's"

By now I am rolling with laughter.  Ms. Lustig wisely moves on.  She explains that since this is the 3rd year class, many parents already know the drill and don't opt to show up.  Her implication is borne out as more lost parents looking for the 2nd year meeting wander through than the total contents of our room.

One by one 11 of the 12 teachers DD has this semester come in to introduce themselves and describe their classes.  Most parents behave as one would expect in such circumstances.  They nod politely, chuckle politely, and, perhaps, ask an occasional polite question.  But, there are exceptions.

The first teacher to emerge is actually the one with whom DD was having issues.  Ms. Gardiner is youngish, blond, and has a bit of an unplaceable accent.  She is also new.  The energy in the room immediately changes as the parents realize who she is.  "We've heard about you!" states one parent, bluntly.  "Oh, what have you heard?" The parents now begin reciting various things their children have been reprimanded for in class.  They aren't hostile, but there is just a little icy edge to the banter.  They think Ms. Gadiner has been too harsh, and while they are not yet ready to confront her on it,  they are letting her know they are watching.  She tells one family that the reason she doesn't allow the kids to sit with their feet crossed under their chairs is because she worries about their 'poor backs'.  The father, a rather brusk, stocky red-headed American explains that the kids are used to gymnastics.  I am not sure what that has to do with it, but maybe they need to cross legs there? Ms. Gardiner says that she told the kids that if they had a note from home, they could sit as their parents said they needed to.  The father replies "You will have a letter tomorrow".  Ms. Gardiner beats a hasty retreat.  We were among the friendliest gazes in the room.

The other teachers begin to file in.  Ms. Sungalee is a petite dark-skinned Indian woman with a thick accent.  She explains that Maths are getting serious this year and she will be upping the pressure.  She comes off a little humorless, and DH gives her a skewed look.  I whisper that DD loves her because she lets her play with the math, so he relaxes his glance.

Mr. Chevalier and Ms. Rapini are the French Teachers.  He is high-strung and animated, she is brash and domineering.  They explain that they are concentrating more on writing this year but that there are 5 students who are new to French (DD is one).  So, they are doing catch up classes.  They urge that the students must work hard, but stay relaxed, which is tricky.  I can't imagine either one putting kids at their ease!

The technology teacher is a younger gentleman who doesn't have too much to tell us.  He says that the group is mixed with English and French, so he teaches primarily in French, but helps with English as needed.  This is when we get our first glimpse of another of the true characters in the room.  A father sitting in the back introduces himself and his wife.  He is swarthy, thick, with tight curly hair and is dressed in a suit with no tie.  And, she looks a bit like a stereotypical Jersey Shore Matron- big hair, too much make-up and sausage-tight clothes with bold prints.  Dad then begins a long, thickly accented (Spanish?  Italian?) speech about how his daughter works on the computer but does not organize her work properly in folders.  He rather dogmatically demands to know whether this is not included in the curriculum.  The poor Tech teacher is taken by surprise.  He manages to stammer that filing really isn't part of the curriculum, but that he will cover it.  Dad blusters and repeats himself several times, but they get through it and Tech Teacher escapes.

Music Teacher is mellow with a nose ring and poor English skills.  Art teacher is oddly defensive about the idea that the students MUST bring all their supplies each and every class.  German Teacher is mellow but doesn't speak much English, which annoys one of the French father's who doesn't have any German skills.

Around this point the academic headmaster arrives with an older teacher in tow.  He explains that they are considering arranging a week-long ski trip for our students, but that last year there was a lot of discussion about other options, so he wanted to make sure everyone was on board before going ahead with all the work of doing the planning and such.  It takes a while for the parents to warm into the discussion, but in the end almost everyone thinks it is a great idea.  One French mother does raise her hand and declares "I would be opposed to such a trip"  The brusk red-headed father demands "Why?" "I am generally not in favor of fieldtrips" she explains.  Everyone looks surprised, but accepting of her personal preference.  She is the only one opposed, though, so planning will go forward.

Then the PE teacher arrives.  Her English isn't great, but she does get the point across that everyone needs to have dedicated gym shoes.  She also discusses some sort of extra-curricular sports program that they have during lunch and after school.  There are some forms that we need to fill out if we want our students to participate, including a health form that must be signed by a doctor.  The father who wants his daughter to file things properly on the computer has a major issue with the forms.  He wants to be able to just sign something that says he takes responsibility for his daughter instead of having to get a doctor's signature.  He is aghast that they would have to visit a doctor and finds this a major inconvenience.  The PE teacher muddles through the conversation for a while before Ms. Lustig jumps in to her rescue.  She firmly and clearly explains that while it would be more convenient if he could do it his way, this is a government rule having to do with insurance and they have no choice.  He persists for a while, but she is skillful in de-escalating his increasingly strident objections.  He eventually gives it one last "It would be better if" and then lets the conversation move ahead.  PE Teacher escapes.  

Did I miss anyone?  If so, they were a bit of a blur.  The Human Sciences (Social Studies) teacher is the only no-show.  Though, come to think of it the Ethics teacher walked through but never talked with us.  Toward the end a mom who arrived late turns to us and asks if the English teacher had been there already.  She expresses disappointment at having missed her opportunity to see her.  Ms. Gardiner already appears to have quite a rep.

I take the opportunity to stick around and grab some face time with Ms. Lustig.  I feel a bit guilty because they start to close the school down around us!  She walks us out, and we see her off on her bicycle.  But, she seems interested in hearing a bit about DD and seems to "get" what we are telling her.  I think that DD will have a lot in common with her, and discover that her degree is in The History of Science- which is a subject she taught at the university level in Texas back in the states.  I didn't even know The History of Science was a thing.  Too cool.  She encourages me to talk more with Ms. Gardiner to get that situation cleared up, but I leave feeling encouraged.

Ms. Gardiner

DD stays home on Friday.  She is tired, cranky, a little stuffed-up and probably has PMS.  She could have forced herself through the day, but we have learned that about 1 Mental Health Day per month is pretty much necessary to keep her life manageable, so we agree that this one can be it. As a result, I am able to drop DS off with her at home after I pick him up from school before my meeting, simplifying dynamics.  So, yay.  He was a crabby mess anyways, so a bit more time away from humans is probably for the best.

In any case, my meeting with Ms. Gardiner is actually pretty universally positive.  She is a Californian who was raised in France.  She is new at the school and having issues with DD's class because they are chatty, and more issues with another class because they are downright mean to each other.  DD, however, isn't chatty and does her work as requested and is not mean to anyone.  DD did tell Ms. Gardiner that she is a "Control Freak" which she wasn't sure how to parse, but she seems willing to let it go.  I describe DD's strengths and challenges and some of her past issues and she seems quite amenable to trying to accommodate DD's uniqueness.  I get the impression Ms. Lustig has also already given her the heads up.  And, before I left for the meeting, DD told me that she and Ms. Gardiner have been getting along better already.  So, knock wood, let's hope this is the last one of these that we need to have for a while! 

Liestal

On a completely separate topic, last weekend our friend Bernard came in to Liestal, Switzerland on a business trip.  So, we toodled on down to say howdy.  Unfortunately, it was Sunday- which isn't a great day for a visit in Europe since, you know, NOTHING IS OPEN.  But, we managed to find things to do, anyways.  Those of you who follow me on Facebook will have already seen most of these.  But, for everyone else, here are a few pictures of our visit to Liestal:

Bernard was staying at the Hotel Engel (angel)- these ladies guard the entrance way

DS and DD checking out the art

DH reading the quotes

More playing with the angels

We did discover that the town museum was open.  This was an eclectic collection of textiles, family histories, and space Stuff.  The lobby had a nice working loom.

Both kids enjoyed it.

Trying out astronaut balance trainers

DH braved the challenge

Set

Go!

Third floor- family histories.  You could read quotes on the wall, then find electronic picture frames and audio files to correspond

lots of places to kick back and listen/look

A jacquard punch card machine- pre computer

DS wanted to program it

Pretty textiles

Silk worm cocoons

Black Lit Astronaut

DS and Black Light

Everyone comparing black light

Top floor was all about watching lit star charts as if they were the night sky

This was an interesting set up near the hotel

Lots of hunting shops in town.  The box is a "game processor".  We were geekily amused by this.

the fountain reads "Nancy".  Interestingly, the statue does not look like a Nancy

St. George and the dragon above... no clue who the guys below are, though

weird art outside the church

weird art inside the church.... The leaf on that stained glass seriously looks like cannabis.

cat in the churchyard

very friendly

This used book store was not only open, but had English Language books.

gardenplatz near the train station

the smallest violin in the world playing just for you

wait, this one is smaller!

small recorder to accompany

Swiss Army Knives now have USB

Obligatory town snake art