The Dreaded Gastro
Bird flu may be the terror du jour, but the real health issue this year in France has got to be the worst Gastroenteritis epidemic in 15 years. People started coming down with it right at the holidays and it was supposed to be mostly over in January. However, unusually and unexpectedly, it just keeps going and going.
As a germophobe, born and raised, I wasn't too concerned because I practically Lysol my hands a gazillion times a day. Not great for the skin, but hell on germs. If one of us was going to get it, it was not going to be me.
Therefore, on Saturday, when we blithely set out for the Festival of Polars and BD (mysteries and comic book) in Port Vendres on the coast almost at the Spanish border, I had no foreshadowing of anything being amiss.
The weather got really, really ugly by the time we left Carcassonne. It was that kind of irritating rain that isn't really enough to require a lot of windshield wiper action, but too much to see without hitting them periodically. Still, okay.
Then we hit Narbonne. I don't know what it is about the section of autoroute between Narbonne and Perpignan, but in the rain it was the worst driving conditions I've ever encountered. The rain was heavy, while at the same time being foggy. Everyone was driving too fast for the road conditions, there were dozens and dozens of Semis on their way to Spain and the wind kept wanting to pick Beanie up and spit her out. It was too dark to wear sunglasses, but the glare was so harsh that I wound up with a headache from squinting.
We finally got to Port Vendres, and I have to say I was really disappointed because of the weather. JM and I had been looking forward to visiting it and Collioure just up the coast; but clearly, Saturday was not the day for that type of activity. The Festival was mostly being held in a tent right on the harbor. Under normal circumstances, that would have been lovely. Unfortunately, with the rain it was just cold and miserable.
The bright spot was seeing our good friends Philippe Ward from Riviere Blanche and François Darnaudet, author and festival organizer. Plus, a great and pleasant surprise was to be found in the form of Regine and Laurent, our good friends from neighboring village Rivel. They had a table selling used books and comics as well as Laurent's new fantasy novel.
At around 11:00, we went over to the neighboring community center, where the panels were being held. These were actually inside where it was dry, which was a nice change. As we were sitting there, however, I suddenly started to realize I had a fever. Okay, it wasn't super high, but it came with that weird, fever-brain feeling, where you don't feel quite as if you are all there. When the panel finished, I had just enough time to run around the harbor to a still-open pharmacy to pick up some paracetemol. We were supposed to have lunch (provided, again, by the festival) then there was a signing session in the afternoon. I really didn't want to stay, but JM convinced me to at least have lunch.
And, the paracetamol kicked in and I felt better for a couple of hours. But, suddenly the fever was back, the rain was starting back up and I knew we had to leave or it would be bad. So, without even waiting for coffee and dessert, we headed back to the Possum Kingdom.
Believe it or not, although five hours had passed, the section of the autoroute between Perpignan and Narbonne was just as hideous in the afternoon as it had been in the morning! Amazing. I got us through that and pulled into the first full-service rest stop we came to, buying a coke and using the bathroom. (Side Note: Why do bathrooms on autoroutes so often feel the need to NOT have a seat on the toilet!!! Is it that much more difficult to maintain? Do they not understand women at all???). After downing another paracetamol, we got back in the car.
About fifteen minutes later though, I knew I was not going to make it. I had the worst time not passing out and barely managed to get poor Beanie over to the side of the road. JM was just going to have to drive the rest of the way. Luckily, as we arrived at Carcassonne, the sun came out, turning it into a glorious day. As always, the rain made everything sparkle and it was all a joy to behold. The silver lining was that this was the first time I'd ever been on the autoroute past Carcassonne as a passenger! It's a totally different experience. You have a stunning view of the Cité, surrounded by the beauty of hill and vineyard that makes it look like some giant child's playset. It's one of those things that is really worth the detour.
I felt better again if tired and by the time we arrived home, hoped that the worst was over. Sadly, the weekend passed with high fever (39.5 C/103.1 F) but NO symptoms of gastroenteritis or anything else for that matter. JM was worried, I just felt bad. Luckily (as odd as that sounds) I started to have gastric symptoms in the middle of the night of Sunday/Monday morning. At least that gave the doc something to treat.
Now, for the upside of this experience; and yes, there is one!
Okay, I know I didn't look like a glamour queen, but I didn't think it was all that bad. Well, when I did go out Sunday morning, my friend Louis, who I see most mornings, noticed right away and was concerned. That was my last outing for the day.
Clearly, I wasn't able to perform my usual routine, which has me out and about in the village several times a day. People noticed that it was JM walking Maggie and going to the shops for things. Our friend Conchita came to the door because she was worried that she hadn't seen me and other friends stopped JM on the street to ask how I was.
Sunday afternoon, when my fever hadn't quite gone to it's upper reaches, but was still bad, we called Pharmacist-on-call (and good friend) Bernard Lané. He stopped over to drop off aspirin to add to my drug cocktail. I think the last drugstore delivery I had in the States was in 1968!
When I was finally feeling better and went out walking again yesterday, everyone asked if I was feeling better. How nice to live in a place where your neighbors notice that things aren't well and check to see if you need assistance. I always used to think that in our neighborhood in L.A., as sweet as the people were (and they were very nice folks), that you could lie in your house unconcious or dead for days before anyone noticed anything amiss. I doubt that could happen here.
Ciao for now (if you've been brave enough to read this far!)
Randy
As a germophobe, born and raised, I wasn't too concerned because I practically Lysol my hands a gazillion times a day. Not great for the skin, but hell on germs. If one of us was going to get it, it was not going to be me.
Therefore, on Saturday, when we blithely set out for the Festival of Polars and BD (mysteries and comic book) in Port Vendres on the coast almost at the Spanish border, I had no foreshadowing of anything being amiss.
The weather got really, really ugly by the time we left Carcassonne. It was that kind of irritating rain that isn't really enough to require a lot of windshield wiper action, but too much to see without hitting them periodically. Still, okay.
Then we hit Narbonne. I don't know what it is about the section of autoroute between Narbonne and Perpignan, but in the rain it was the worst driving conditions I've ever encountered. The rain was heavy, while at the same time being foggy. Everyone was driving too fast for the road conditions, there were dozens and dozens of Semis on their way to Spain and the wind kept wanting to pick Beanie up and spit her out. It was too dark to wear sunglasses, but the glare was so harsh that I wound up with a headache from squinting.
We finally got to Port Vendres, and I have to say I was really disappointed because of the weather. JM and I had been looking forward to visiting it and Collioure just up the coast; but clearly, Saturday was not the day for that type of activity. The Festival was mostly being held in a tent right on the harbor. Under normal circumstances, that would have been lovely. Unfortunately, with the rain it was just cold and miserable.
The bright spot was seeing our good friends Philippe Ward from Riviere Blanche and François Darnaudet, author and festival organizer. Plus, a great and pleasant surprise was to be found in the form of Regine and Laurent, our good friends from neighboring village Rivel. They had a table selling used books and comics as well as Laurent's new fantasy novel.
At around 11:00, we went over to the neighboring community center, where the panels were being held. These were actually inside where it was dry, which was a nice change. As we were sitting there, however, I suddenly started to realize I had a fever. Okay, it wasn't super high, but it came with that weird, fever-brain feeling, where you don't feel quite as if you are all there. When the panel finished, I had just enough time to run around the harbor to a still-open pharmacy to pick up some paracetemol. We were supposed to have lunch (provided, again, by the festival) then there was a signing session in the afternoon. I really didn't want to stay, but JM convinced me to at least have lunch.
And, the paracetamol kicked in and I felt better for a couple of hours. But, suddenly the fever was back, the rain was starting back up and I knew we had to leave or it would be bad. So, without even waiting for coffee and dessert, we headed back to the Possum Kingdom.
Believe it or not, although five hours had passed, the section of the autoroute between Perpignan and Narbonne was just as hideous in the afternoon as it had been in the morning! Amazing. I got us through that and pulled into the first full-service rest stop we came to, buying a coke and using the bathroom. (Side Note: Why do bathrooms on autoroutes so often feel the need to NOT have a seat on the toilet!!! Is it that much more difficult to maintain? Do they not understand women at all???). After downing another paracetamol, we got back in the car.
About fifteen minutes later though, I knew I was not going to make it. I had the worst time not passing out and barely managed to get poor Beanie over to the side of the road. JM was just going to have to drive the rest of the way. Luckily, as we arrived at Carcassonne, the sun came out, turning it into a glorious day. As always, the rain made everything sparkle and it was all a joy to behold. The silver lining was that this was the first time I'd ever been on the autoroute past Carcassonne as a passenger! It's a totally different experience. You have a stunning view of the Cité, surrounded by the beauty of hill and vineyard that makes it look like some giant child's playset. It's one of those things that is really worth the detour.
I felt better again if tired and by the time we arrived home, hoped that the worst was over. Sadly, the weekend passed with high fever (39.5 C/103.1 F) but NO symptoms of gastroenteritis or anything else for that matter. JM was worried, I just felt bad. Luckily (as odd as that sounds) I started to have gastric symptoms in the middle of the night of Sunday/Monday morning. At least that gave the doc something to treat.
Now, for the upside of this experience; and yes, there is one!
Okay, I know I didn't look like a glamour queen, but I didn't think it was all that bad. Well, when I did go out Sunday morning, my friend Louis, who I see most mornings, noticed right away and was concerned. That was my last outing for the day.
Clearly, I wasn't able to perform my usual routine, which has me out and about in the village several times a day. People noticed that it was JM walking Maggie and going to the shops for things. Our friend Conchita came to the door because she was worried that she hadn't seen me and other friends stopped JM on the street to ask how I was.
Sunday afternoon, when my fever hadn't quite gone to it's upper reaches, but was still bad, we called Pharmacist-on-call (and good friend) Bernard Lané. He stopped over to drop off aspirin to add to my drug cocktail. I think the last drugstore delivery I had in the States was in 1968!
When I was finally feeling better and went out walking again yesterday, everyone asked if I was feeling better. How nice to live in a place where your neighbors notice that things aren't well and check to see if you need assistance. I always used to think that in our neighborhood in L.A., as sweet as the people were (and they were very nice folks), that you could lie in your house unconcious or dead for days before anyone noticed anything amiss. I doubt that could happen here.
Ciao for now (if you've been brave enough to read this far!)
Randy
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