Au Paléo, quoi!

In the five years that I lived in Geneva, I saw my work colleagues at the airport haggling about this and that shift every July, worried about not getting the right day off or having to work at the wrong hour. They eventually all headed for a plain field on midway between Lausanne and Geneva, where for one week every day 40,000 people would listen to all kinds of music and just having a blast at one of Switzerland's most recognized music festivals. Actually as i just read in their press file since 2003 they were sold out every year.
But never in all the years in Geneva I actually went there - but today I did in my duty for the Indian government.

My boss had received an invitation, and when I explained him the schedule today he spontaneously asked if I wanted to join him. Uuuuh, I had to give it a long thought. A guided tour, apero and backstage access. I love the job.

Time for politics

Monday I was translating the daily news again. But as the current affair in Swiss politics was to enter a new phase, I waited with handing in my reports.
"The minister of defense has scheduled a press conference for 4:30pm. He is expected to sack the chief of army." I told my boss.
And as expected, at 5pm I could hand in everything with a little update (that the chief of army had surprisingly only been suspended). At the same time I found out that the Indian government crisis upon their nuclear deal with the USA had entered the showdown phase.
So the next day I handed in already in the morning a short summary on how the Swiss media thought about Prime Minister Singh's attempts to survive a confidence vote without his coalition partner. My boss took the article knowing that there was nothing written, what he would not know yet, while on his screen a live coverage from Delhi was running through the broadband.
"When is the vote sir? I am curious myself." I asked, hoping for getting to know the result before lunchtime.
He just looked at me and said: "Today!" wondering about me asking for the obvious.
So I went downstairs to give a copy of the report to another colleague, who was sitting with two others in his office, also watching life the parliament debate. I showed him the article and mentioned, that currently one vote was traded for 3.7 mio EUR among the members of parliament. He looked at me with wonder rather than outrage - he had not expected a price so cheap.
Being the ignorant gora I asked once more for the precise schedule of the election, that I had not dared to insist on in front of my boss.
"Today!" was still the answer. Actually it changed later to a "postponed" until one of a sudden in the afternoon the loud voice of the speaker of the Lok Sabha was going through the walls of the office. Mr Singh had won the vote.

What you were changing me into

OK, I had a learningful time, know meanwhile more about my my metabolism than most people in the world learn in their entire life, receive compliments by doctors that I can describe my pain, symptoms and body functions in detail. I blogged more than ever before and received tremendous support by all kinds of people. But can now finally get this to an end? Can I finally get a new life and live in peace?

My doc asked me to keep him updated on what is happening with me. I wrote him. It might worry him more than it did myself. I got too used to this and yet am so fed up with it. I believe the hope in me, that now finally this medication might bring the cure. But I don't feel it. The last two days I actually felt too often the opposite. This bitch stole a good part of my weekend. And tomorrow I am supposed to go to work. I have to go. I have to prove myself that things are kind of normal, what they are not. But I keep trying - as I did for years as it seems.



Don’t stay
Forget what you were changing me into
(Just give me myself back and)
Don’t stay

How does it feel to be healthy?

The good news: I had 9 days in a row without seeing a doctor. The bad news: it was due to his busy schedule, not because I was any better. We had been in contact over mail though. One mail he had misread to be angry.
"I am not angry, I am just frustrated, don't take it personal." I explained him. "By comments like 'medicine is no mathematics' for example."
"I never said something like this!" he insisted, clearly stating in his voice that he would never even think such a stupid statement.
"No, your boss did." I replied.
He remained silent.

He than shortly came up with a possible diagnosis, but after a short Q&A dropped the idea. That was fast, I thought.

I went out tonight, met a friend and could not enjoy due to pain and illness. I believe in the new drug, but yet nothing good is happening. I feel the illness a bit stronger which is normal.

"How does it feel to be healthy?" I asked the doc this morning. Seriously I cannot judge which state I should hope for. For years I have been fighting little battles every day. Just thought that I am unfortunately facing more hard days than others. Why should I have thought, that what I go through is more than just a little every day annoyance?
I am too tired to write on. I will do later. I write here also, because it makes my efforts tangible to myself. But now I just want to do something, that thanks to my pills I can do much better than in all the past years: sleeping.

Again my head...

...is killing me. It feels like a cramp. It feels like sitting in an exam with all the questioned knowledge in your head, but due to the panic your memory is gone. But what usually lasts a few minutes in the head of a student, has been like this for the whole afternoon and evening.

The good news in between: I had been asked to see the new MC yesterday to shoot some pics. To my own surprise they were not even as bad as I had expected. And later in the night I was even cured or something similar for a few hours, as I posted. It was great.

Yesterday's high was only repeated for a short while after lunch today. But than it started again going down, and I was kind of crawling in my work, and even became lethargic for an hour or two.
I think the bitch is getting nostalgic, as in the past days most of the conditions that I have been through since March are making a short reappearance on stage. Maybe these symptoms just show up to bow a last time before the curtain falls for them for good and I finally get healed?

For whatever reason, I actually should now it better, be more realistic, but something is telling me that I am slowly moving towards the cure. I keep my optimism. We will have to see. My doc wrote me an email today, asking how the side effects were doing. I told him how well I was doing last night - and how bad the hours before. He wrote that given the fact that currently I am taking three different drugs at the same time, the one that failed (and is going to be ceased in a week ors so) could one of a sudden start working now that the new drug has been added.
This sounds as stupid as hillarious, as ironic as outrageous. Anyway, I think I had one pill too much today. I have to sleep now. Maybe I wake up tomorrow and my head is better - and my confidence in the art of medicine as well. And one of a sudden I am not as optimistic anymore...

I feel aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabsolutely fabulous

I have felt pain, blackouts, crisis, resignation, was stoned, euphoric and apathetic and last but not least feel every day why people can die with this illness. But now I just feel fabulous! And I enjoy. I called Tristan to ask if this came from the new medics. He said no, impossible, too early. I don't give a shit. I think this must be how healthy people feel. Or even better.

Ironically I told just a few hours back to Jih-Ming that I had to go home because I had a pain attack - and quite an ugly one. I had taken the emergency pill already last night, so taking it tonight would have been a bit risky (it can easily turn people addicted). But this problem has been solved it seems. I will feel like this again soon, I hope. I will feel like dying in between, but now I enjoy.

Here it goes again

Every time when I take a ride on a roller coaster, I ask myself why the heck I bought the ticket as soon as the wagon starts crawling up slowly the first wave. Today I feel a bit similar, but it has to be.

Yesterday I had the prescription in my mailbox and straightly went to the pharmacy "to ruin once more my health insurance" as I called it. I took the first pill this morning.
I have been advised not to read about the possible side effects. It can prevent the patients from feeling some of them. I wish my biggest sorrow was hypochondria.

Actually I prefer to know what is happening in my body while all this poison is flowing through it, but I give the advise a chance. As far as I remember, I have most of the side effects already anyway. That's actually almost all what I got out of the old medication! "Rocket fuel" my ass! It gave me energy, true. But in combination with the symptoms that it failed to make disappear, this can cause the worst. I felt something changing, but that its not enough. Or as a doc put it:
"You should feel great, and not kind of better!"

Bethlehem kahan hain?

At least I have a job offering me funny moments. Working as a translator does not only mean translating administrative letters and articles from French and German into English and vice versa. But also offering my skills in the local language during shopping - I mean at "the acquisition of furniture for the residence".

So me, two staff members and the driver drove into the outskirts of Bern. When we left the 4th shop or so, one of the staff said the next shop was in Bethlehem. "Do you know the way?" he asked me, as we were driving away from the car park.

There is no road on which I had not drove yet into my neighborhood. I got there by bike, car, bus, train, soon by tram and saw the place even from a plane more than once, and so now with a limousine with diplomat number plates.
But I never ever thought I would have to instruct the way how to get there to an Indian in my basic Hindi, like I used to explain my way home in Bombay to rickshaw drivers. "Sidhah, sidhah (straight), left, first right, sidhah, bass (stop)" - and we were there!
There were even two more things common with a usual ride in a Bombay rickshaw:
1) the driver did not know the way, as he is himself from a completely different place far far away
2) we got lost (not the driver's fault though, as there are plenty of building sites and deviations all around the place these days)

Pfuse

Is it the good weather? The fact that exams are over? Or has my blog become so boring that no one reads it? Anyway, it is time to blog again.

The cool thing about my job is that actually I am not too busy and slightly under challenged. This gives me the opportunity to train to organize myself and all the other things that usually get lost on the long way of delivery. I also learn a bit of the diplomatic grass root work, which seems mostly long letters containing as much formal French as little information. It is like doing the internship I never did during my studies. Times of crisis are also a time of second chance.

Meanwhile my doc went on vaccation. So yesterday I was sitting with her replacement during the weekly checkup. Ironically it was the same doc who treated me at my first appearance at the emergency department back on Easter. He had prescribed me the first drug and said that all that had been done since was as he had done it also. He checked symptoms and side effects and looked actually like he was doing maths on his sheet, with the final result on the bottom of the page, while listening.
In a nutshell: compared to the state that I should have given all the medication I have swallowed since March I feel, well absolutely pathetic. As bad as this conclusion was, I had already heard it three weeks back. Still he tried to convince me again of the new medication.
I interrupted him saying that I had full confidence into the art of medicine (a lie, as actually it has been severely challenged in recent times) and that I was not questionning the new medicine. But that I was asking myself, that now, where I finally started a new job, I feared that another three week horror trip with sside effects making my stomach and all other organs roller cost could actually cripple me for too long to keep the job.
"I know." he said, meaning that he could not change about it. Me neither. By the end of the day my health - and life (I wished I could call this an exaggeration, but for hell's sake it is not, even if I am lying to myself about it all day) - prime.
I am sick of being ill. I am sick of fearing about my life.

He said he would send me the prescription by mail, but that he would like me to do a test first. I should take the night pill already at 7:30 pm. It should make me feel better for the night until going into bed.
"I am going to fall asleep instantly." I opposed.
"No, no! This is only an effect in the beginning. Now you have taken the pill for so long, this effect should have weakened. Try it and send me an email how it went!"
So I took the pill at 7:32pm. Around 7:40pm I felt pretty good. Around 7:50pm I left the computer, because I felt too tired. I made myself comfy in front of the TV. At 8pm I was sleeping on the couch like a baby, until at 10pm my mum woke me up with her most motherly voice: "Sweetheart, why don't you sleep in your bed?" making me feel at least 25 years younger.

This afternoon I sent a 3 sentence mail to the doc explaining what happened. He answered in a page long email about the importance of sleep and suggested to take the pill 1 hour later. I take the pill now (10pm) - and expect simply to sleep - joyfully.

Too much information

I started to feel better and did not put it on the blog, because I don't want to blog all my life sometimes. Now I feel worse, and feel that I should not blog only negative stuff. I hate dilemmas.

To sum up the week: The job is cool, and I hope I can keep doing it. As much as I enjoy the work, I feel like shit in the evenings. And some symptoms came back, that worry me.
At the same time I feel some reflexes working again. An easy way for me to test my condition myself from time to time, and a clear sign that things might be changing for a better.

Tomorrow is a new checkup - new medication.
I just tried to inquire a bit on the new drug. Funny result:
1) Wiki sucks, as it is not giving the information I was looking for. At least the list of side effects is clearly shorter. Yawning is one of them.
2) the webforum for patients with my illness sucks as well. The patients writing there had a disagreement online on if the new drug makes them feel rather sleepy or awaken.
3) Tristan is a bigger help, as he is not only a friend but also a medical doctor. However, he said the new drug was "neutral" on the sleepiness-issue. Maybe he should ad his knowledge to the online discussion.
4) Last but not least I lost the patient information leaflet, that my doc printed out for me, so that I could think about the new treatment, before giving my agreement. I remember her telling me at the same time to stay away from Wikipedia and the webforum, as it might confuse me with too much irrelevant information - ups!

Memories

Funny! Just had a Swiss trainee on the phone. She is flying to Bombay tomorrow, where she is to stay for a day or two before catching the train to Baroda. I had given her a few contacts in Bombay. Simone, my old flatmate invited her to stay at my old flat in Vakola. "Sabi is going to explain you how to get there." She told her.
Had to reckon a bit before I remembered.
"Hire a prepaid taxi at the airport, pay the price they ask for, even if it will seem insane to you after a few weeks in India, and than tell the driver Vakola police station, than turn left and keep going on the main street until the wine shop appears on your left side and ask the driver 'first right', than 'first left' into that tiny street, reach the little square where the kids are playing cricket who shouted 'Sabi' every evening when I came from work, turn left, than right and than you are there. The flat is on the top floor."

This morning I felt at work a little home sick, like when being in India. After two seconds I realized that Switzerland is just in front of the building. This job is like flying to Bombay every morning and flying back in the evening. I just miss the fresh mosambi juice at my desk and the biryani for lunch.

Back in India - kinda

Since last week I constantly I asked myself how the job in the embassy would look like. Today I realized that I already knew it well in advance.
When I think of India, than I remember of delicious food, the most hospital people, the admirable patience of the people, the people's unsatisfiable passion for administration, the fact that bookkeeping is taken literally in every shop, hotel or office, so that even where a computer is present everything has parallely to be documented in one of these huge greenish paged books; the office culture, that starts at 9ish slowly and does never seem to accelerate until one of a sudden around 3pm someone important outside the office makes a wish that has to be delivered instantly, so that the entire office team starts to rush until 15 minutes before the end of the office hours, when the conclusion settles, that the task cannot be completed the same day, or is not as important as it looked in the beginning or both; the office hours in general, where presence is more important than working - and last but not least - the long waits.

I had been asked to show up at 9am. I did and was made waiting in the lobby for half an hour. Eventually they asked me in, told me that the person in charge of me was not in yet and that maybe I had to wait for a bit more. A bit later they showed me my desk. I actually I have my own office with all liberties and two ashtrays.
"You can smoke in here if you want!"
I don't think it is a pity that I quit more than 3 years ago.

I was shown the entire building, there is even a library. All people working in the embassy welcomed me with a smile and offered me help where needed. Apart of a secretary and the receptionist I am the only non-Indian among more than 25 staff.
The job role is kind of paradise: I am to lookup the printed media of Switzerland and Liechtenstein (did anyone know that they have a daily newspaper out there?) for relevant reports, summarize the important stuff and translate some articles into English. In a nutshell the first half of the day I am sitting in my office reading newspapers. After a few hours of intensive screening of the media I decided to write my report and a few translations. Nothing very stressful. I left for lunch at 1pm, came back after one hour and kept translating. In between I had little ad hoc tasks like: "Can you please call my doctor/an electrician/the phone company" or "translate "good morning" into Swiss?" Nothing eventful. But than, around 3pm my phone rang. It was my boss who called me downstairs into his office.
"Drop everything else you have done so far!Take this legal document and translate it into English. The ambassador needs it ASAP! "
So I started translating that 13 page piece of legislation, drafted by seemingly illiterate lawyers and ratified by the Bernese parliament, from German into English. I always considered German as my mother tongue but lawyer's German seemed more difficult than Hindi here.
Less than a couple of hours later the boss called again. "How far are you?"
"One third..."
"One third to go? We need it ASAP as I said!"
"No sir, one third I have completed meanwhile."
"Hm ok, otherwise you just complete it tomorrow."

Before leaving I went to the office next door to update a colleague from the accounting team on a call that I had made on his behalf, as his Swissgerman is worse than my Hindi. I caught him silently writing numbers into a huge book with green pages.

The job is great fun. I have to be careful with my health, but otherwise, if I was not sick, I would never have taken on this job. Finally again something positive out of this horror. I hope I can keep up my health for a while to keep the job.

Fear

Tomorrow is my first working day. I am afraid I might fail. Why? I have nothing to lose. The doc said I should try. I decided to look how the first week goes.

Isn't fear the thing that makes us careful? That makes watch that we don't lose all the precious things that we have?

I always thought to have vanquished fear once and for all by having met death earlier in my life. But things would be too easy. In the end it is my fear that keeps me alive.

I am afraid of falling back into ignoring all warnings whispered to me by my body while trying to do my job. I have been doing so for years and look where it brought me. For months I had to tell myself now that I am too ill to challenge myself. Now I have to stand up again and see where my limits stand. I shall see. It could be a lot of fun in the end.

I went to Zumikon for the transition party. Again I was the photographer. Again I had a lot of fun. And I realised how much better I am compared to KickOff.
My state is much more stable and less painful, though I still have pain attacks (e. g. today midday).
Later this week we are going to change the medication. I decided to give my agreement. It shocks me how familiar I became with the life danger that I have been carrying with me for so long. I felt it becoming weaker, but never saw it disappear. I did not worry half as much as my doctors.
Yes, I even lost that fear of dying once or twice. The one that keeps me alive. I don't want that to happen again. I want to live! I will!

Medication failed, patient alive

The third checkup this week and a decision that I need to take within the next days. The doc said that if I can name all the side effects that I meet but not describe any improvement that I feel, than probably a change of medication is not avoidable.
"I don't know how I should feel actually." I responded, "Can you tell me?"
And in coherence with his colleagues race for the most ridiculous statement given by a physician the doc stated:
"Medicine is no mathematics. Things are far from being as predictable."
Apparently 75% of the patients do respond to the medication that I take currently. Obviously I am in the other 25%. This seems caused by my genetic code, which is a pretty arbitrary explanation. So in different words I pulled the "lucky draw" twice! Maybe I should play lotto these days.

I was given a print out of the drug's patient information leaflet and sent home. New medication, new side effects. The old pill makes people sweat for example, the new one will make me freeze. Sounds pleasant given the current outside temperatures.

But it does not even stress me. I also have good news, which is much more important: I got a job!

Not an as dull and physical one as I had imagined for the time being (e. g. help out as a backstage workforce at the Gurten festival), but something using my head: translator at the Indian Embassy.
It is exactly the job that I am not sure to be able to perform, but despite the possibility of failing due to my health, the job sounds too fun to be rejected. The doc also suggested that I should give it a try - ironically while signing a certificate stating my strongly limited capacity to work in the past two weeks.

This illness has become my profession, and it has to stop. It will always be with me in the background, but sitting at home waiting for cure is wrong. I have to get busy with other things.

Last but not least, I am not the only ex-MCVP of Switzerland having a funny job, am I?

Case study

It has been three months now.

If I take for granted what the doc said, when I made my first appearance in the hospital in March, than I should cure within the next couple of days: "Roughly 3 months" he said than. "But maybe longer". One of his colleagues later did not exclude the possibility, that I might need medication for the rest of my life. The truth is somewhere in between it seems.

Still I am alive, and something in me refuses to believe that I am going to die. It is just not to happen. Though I still have Thursday night at the emergency department in my mind.
In the end I will eat myself to death before the bitch gets me I think - AGAIN I ate a full bucket of Lemon Ice Cream.
On a more serious note: My state has stabilized on a not very high level. I felt it had worsen in the past days, but it is not as bad as it was a bit less than one week ago.

Today I was a case study. My medication, symptoms and treatment were being discussed It was my curiosity that made me volunteer for this happening. I was maybe a bit naive expecting meeting 30 doctors absolutely keen on nothing but getting me cured. It was rather the professor (and head of department) questioning me on my symptoms and sufferings, kind of transmitting the message: "Look at this pathetic creature and its disease." Being a case study made me feel like a case study, rather than a patient or any other form of human being.
Though I took two things out of this event: First, the doctors trust more in the current medication than I do. No new drugs for the time being. In their defense: I feel something is going on in my body this week. Let's wait and see.
Second, while the doctors' efforts in getting me cured have not been very fruitful until now, they show unlimited ambition in coming up with the most ridiculous statements that one can expect from a physician. Today's winner: The lady who asked me in the Q&A that followed the case study: "Given all the failed efforts that have been put into your treatment, and the bad condition that you have now after all these years again, don't you feel frustrated?"
No, of course not. I could not imagine anything more cheerful than going to hospital for a checkup at least once a week . This week I had two by the way. The third one is due on Friday.

The good things: I can work as the EURO-job has proved this month, despite my handicap. Getting back into life in one way or the other seems possible. It should just not be anything that requires the use of my brain.
Also I should mention again the gratitude that I feel for the people who are with me. By being a friend, reminding me of the help that I can count on when needed, having a coffee chat once in a while or simply reading this blog, where I am putting into written words what I feel uncomfortable putting into spoken ones. Despite my own perception that what I have written here particularly in the last couple of weeks was near to rubbish. But I let others judge on this.

If I did not know better...

Another checkup this morning. It stated the obvious - I got worse. Hell knows why. I start feeling again like in March - before any treatment or diagnosis.

If I did not know better, I would assume that I only got worse once the illness was diagnosed and medication started. I would assume that only the pills make me feel bad and stopping the medication would heal me from the pain. I wished it was so easy.

Luckily this happened just a few days before my 30 minutes of fame in tomorrows case study discussion, where I am going to be the "leading actor". This is going to be fun! I mean it is going to be a learningful experience. 30 doctors discussing on the best treatment possible to cure me. Too much honor, is it?
My doc is well prepared. She had asked me to draw down my medical history as a curve indicating my well being during my life a few weeks back. One week later I gave her an Excel-sheet where my feelgood-curve of the last 25 years was indicated quarterly.
She was impressed by so much effort from a patient.
"I can prepare a powerpoint for you as well if you need it!" I offered.
"That won't be necessary." she replied gratefully.

She actually praised me for doing all things the right way. In spite of all my frustration that I stated here on my treatment, slow cure and doctors who cannot offer me any short term improvement I have always followed the instructions by the doctors - and even more. This does not make it less frustrating when the cure remains in the dark. But at least I know that I have done all in my power - despite meeting my tight limits every day. I won't be able to do any work in the nearest future. Chilling and a bit of sports are the two most important tasks right now.
Given the weather this means Marzili everyday. At least I hit the right season to be ill.

I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow

I think this illness is hoaxing me. 48 hours ago I felt literally like dieing, and now I feel almost ok again. It was not funny if that was the aim. It is not funny to wake up in the morning with a doubt if I am going to survive the day.
No day is predictable now. Tomorrow maybe I will have the force to sit on my bike and do a little tour. Or maybe I end up in hospital again. As bad as I felt this morning, as good I feel now.

However, I had a nice day yesterday, allowing me to recover from the Thursday night shock. I worked again undercover (and for the last time at this EURO). This time we had to test restaurants and cafes. So we started with drinking a coke in one cafe, had great Italian food in a unseemingly good ristorante, went on to test a bakery for dessert and finished with cool drinks in a tea room. I had the pleasure of doing this with the same colleague as Tuesday already and apart of good food we also had great conversations on Swiss society and politics and shared the adventures that each of us had lived so far.

In the evening I met friends at my favored restaurant. Given my adventures the night before Tristan exceptionally allowed me to have a beer. Once the medication seems not to work anyway, why minding the side effects? Because ironically they are the only thing that I feel out of my pills. I had prepared myself to go to hospital for a few days last night, but realized that this gratefully was not necessary.

I highly appreciated the job at the EURO as a change. Now that it is over I know that I might be able to do some low skill work for the time being - at least within certain limitations. At the same time, the little work I have done was enough to knock me out for a while. I should be ok again in a week or so. But i need some occupation.

I wished I could cheer

This morning again I felt like shit when I woke up. I just told myself it is going to go away. Few hours later I left to meet people. Came back home, still ignored and patched the pain. Though I started getting the impression, that I was feeling exactly the way I had been shortly before I started the treatment.
Left home again to watch the match in the Fanzone with Tristan. After 80 minutes into the match the guy who had stood behind me since the beginning of the game finally overcame his shyness and asked me: "What does LCGeneva stand for? It is written on the back of your T-Shirt." I explained and kept watching the game.
A bit more than 10 minutes later I asked Tristan to do me a favor and accompany me to the hospital. He agreed, but still hesitating I finally changed my opinion and told him I would prefer to leave for home. Maybe the pain would go as suddenly as it had appeared. On the way I would pass near the hospital anyway, in case I changed my mind.
Biking home I reached the crossroads, where I had the street towards Bethlehem in front of me and the clinic to my left. "I hate you bitch!" I said in painful resignation and turned left.

After some endless minutes in the waiting room of the emergency department with two policemen and the handcuffed criminal that they were guarding, the doctor asked me in. I told him my illness, medication and latest symptoms.
He admitted very soon what I already knew: that he could not change much, but that he could offer me...
"No, I am not staying here!" I interrupted him.
All the medication that he could give me I have at home on my night shelf. I do not need an environment that turns me even more ill than I already am. Not tonight. He accepted that, though I had to promise to call as soon as my state would worsen more.
Once this cleared I took the advantage to ask him what actually might be wrong with me, given the fact that my state had become so worse in the last few days.
"Maybe it means that you are going through this phase because the medication starts working." I was almost cheering in my mind while staying stoic listening.
"But it can actually also mean that the medication is failing and that it has to be changed." Yet I was stoic, but obviously not cheering.
Who said medicine was an exact science?
Eventually I said good bye to the doc, knowing that I would meet him next week, when my medical file is going to be discussed with the entire team of 30 doctors.

For f***'s sake, I have been through three weeks full of side effects TWICE and now they are telling me that maybe all this was for nothing! I must admit I feel better, but I AM not better I am being told. I feel every f***ing day that I might not survive this, the last five days or so even more than before. I have been ill for too long.

However, I will see tomorrow how it goes. Otherwise I call. Though I am disappointed about my state as well as the options the docs are offering me, despite all their good will. Let's see if I can find a video that shows how I kind of feel...

Inkognito

Yesterday I had one of the coolest jobs ever. The city of Bern and its Tourism Department in particular have spend a huge amount of time and money to train shop owners, taxi drivers, police, railway employees and many more in welcoming the football fanatics from allover Europe that come to town these days with a maximum of hospitality. As the impact of the campaign must be measured someone has to has to test the Bernese hosts if they do their job well or not. Guess who this someone was yesterday.

So me and a colleague disguised with oranje-shirts and other Dutch accessories and walked up and down the old town, asking police in bad English how to get to the stadium the fastest or in unSwissly clear German where to report my purse stolen. We tested the ladies working in the tourist info if they knew the next bus to Grächwil (they had no clue where it was) and challenged the work attitude of many more employees of the transport companies. It is funny to ask for direction like a lost tourist in a city that you know like the own pocket.
Surprisingly, our fake identity was never given away, despite being the only "Oranjes" in town without a beer in our hands.

Meanwhile my body calls for food after refusing it for some time. Like regularly in the past week already, I again had a "food-attack". Last night I ate 550g of lemon-sorbet, half a pack of chips and half a chocolate bar, additionally to my three daily meals. Telling Tristan about my appetite and regime he asked reproachfully if it also happened that I ate an apple once in a while.
Today doing my food shopping I remembered his advice. So back home I ate again half a kilo of sorbet, chips, chocolate - and an apple.

10 things telling me that I have been ill for too long

1. I am happy about some medication side effects and sad if they disappear (e. g. hypertension, for the first time in my adult life I do not need 5 cups of coffee a day to stay awake).
2. I am challenging my doctors' opinion and assume, that they might understand my current state, but don't actually know how it feels like
3. I can impress people by putting my illness and state into the right words and attract 20 minutes of full attention
4. I stop calling the hospital because I think to know what they are going to suggest me anyway
   
5. I forgot how it feels to be healthy
   
6. Maybe I am already cured and all the misery that I feel in me is just what people call life
7. Maybe I spend too much time with wishful thinking like the paragraph above
8. I got used to live with feeling my life under threat - almost
9. I am looking for jobs for the near future according to my handicap and not the skills and experience that I bring along from healthy times
10. I am wasting my time writing this kind of lists

In a nutshell: things are getting better very slowly. Today again I hit my limits. The schedule of feeling good or bad has also changed. Now pain happens in the morning, and sometimes goes away towards the night. My body is a building site.

Last but not least a little video dedicated to our neighbors who just followed our country into the mysery. Cordoba was great, but Vienna was not meant to happen. So let's stick to the original - kinda...

Little India

While yet waiting for cure I realized that I have to accommodate myself with the illness. It took almost 4 years to get me here, hence it cannot be fixed overnight. Meanwhile I need an occupation that I can execute beside my handicap. As currently my ability to concentrate is strongly limited (5 days of chilling allow me 2 or 3 hours of concentration a week), I decided to apply for low skill (and hopefully high fun) jobs for the time being, as the example below.

Regularly my dad comes to me with job adds, that he considers as suitable for me to apply for. While in 95% of the cases his choice is useless, usually right next to the encircled ad I find one worth replying. This is also how I found out that the Indian Embassy in Bern is looking for a receptionist.

Two days ago they called inviting me for an interview. Attending it draw my attentions on minor details that can make the difference:
1) punctuality: while in Switzerland every job applicant is taught that he should arrive for an interview at least 15 minutes too early, in India arriving on the dot can be perceived as rude. I hence chose to arrive less than 5 minutes early.

2) knowledge of the organisation you apply for: I arrived in the Embassy and joint three female applicants already waiting in the entry hall.
"Has one of you ever been to India?" one asked shyly. Two answered "No!", I said "Trice!"
"Oh, this is like a home advantage for you!" one said. I did not dare to admit that I actually had lived there for a year and that I knew the names of the two persons on the photographs hanging in the hall.

3) compatibility with Indian time management: While waiting is considered in Switzerland as a pure waste of time and resources, in India it is meant to be an unavoidable part of the process if not life in general. If you don't have to wait for something it is probably not worth it. One of the ladies became stressed after about 15 minutes and I think actually gave up after less than one hour.

4) The interview: I was the second candidate to be interviewed. The lady at the entrance told me to go upstairs. "Atcha!" (Hindi: ok) I replied. Upstairs an assistant welcomed me and guided me into the office where the ambassador and another assistant were waiting. "Namashkar" (Hi) I said and they obviously appreciated my basic Hindi.
In his lap the ambassador had a copy of my application file:
Ambassador: "We were very impressed by your education, your Master of Arts in political science from the University of Geneva, and your professional experience with TCS in Mumbai." (We spent 20 seconds going through your CV).
While Switzerland is the country of modesty, India is the country of bragging:
Me: "Yes, I finished University and became national responsible of a global exchange program in Switzerland, before moving on to work in a very interesting marketing company and later to TCS in Mumbai, where I had the privilege of working in their company headquarters on the same floor as their CEO, getting a deep insight into the functioning of this 1 lakh company. I of course have a decent understanding of Indian social and working culture. " (Give me that job now! And please do not hesitate to repeat over and over again what you just said about my skills!)
Ambassador: "Why would someone with your qualification and skills apply for such a low profile job with so little salary?" (Are you stupid?)
Me: "Money is not my main motivation, I prefer jobs giving me an exciting and learningful environment." (I am suffering of a life threatening disorder that limits my IQ on hardly half of its capacity for the time being, but I am fed up with pathetic afternoons sitting on the sofa while waiting for cure!)
Ambassador: "We are looking for someone who stays for a longer period like the predecessor who is retiring after 35 years in office. Honestly asked, how long do you think you would commit to this position?" (I don't think this is the right thing for you!)
Me: "My horizon is 6 months!" (I get cured and am so out of here!)
Ambassador: "I appreciate your honesty! (You just killed your application!) We are going to get back to you, but let me already tell you now that I am confident that you are young and smart and I can see that you have a bright future in front of you." (Next one please!)

They actually called me shortly later. As expected they filled the position with someone else, but asked me to conduct a test on my language skills with them next week - to maybe become a translator for French and German.

Oranje and other stars

I had two great days working. I additionally met a Swiss football legend, got a handshake from our Mayor and found out, that the Dutch deserve all this city's gratitude for turning it into a party hothouse full of cheering, partying and welcoming soccer fanatics. An Oranje army of fans populated the city during the whole day.
I was working in the Swisscom lounge in the public viewing zone today. A photographer begged us for a glass of water at our information stand. In exchange he showed us pictures from the procession of thousands of Oranjes walking towards the stadium across the Kornhaus bridge.
Around 8pm (40 minutes before the beginning of the game) a radio show was live hosted in the lounge. The reporter asked the Italian among her round of experts, where the Italian fans were.
"They are all here, but yet are having dinner at home in Bümpliz and Bethlehem, where they live." he replied.
He was right. 30 minutes later the fanzone under our lounge was half "azzuro" beside a Sea of "oranje". Once the game started I was told that I could leave for home, as they had actually more staff than needed, and I had had the longest shift. I prefered to watch the first half from the same place, as the atmosphere was better than even in the stadium. Two Dutch goals means being soaked twice under showers of beer spread by supporters. I also asked for aSchnupf (sniff) of tobacco from three teenagers standing next to me - as a compensation for my beer ban.
I also found out yesterday, that I actually speak Italian! At least as long as I only have to give schedules to "Tifosi" trying to catch a train to their fan camp out in the middle of Bernese nowhere.

So the bitch did not avoid me from working - but always stood behind me. It is mostly during work and on the way home where I am remembered of my state. And before I go to bed when I feel how my body refuses to recover from a normal unchallenging working day.
Last but not least, my doc has come up with the possibly cruelest idea since the start of my treatment. Forget pills, pain and side effects, the worst is: homework!
"I want you to document your state, the daytime of pain or well being and the possible causes." she said.
"Every day?" I asked?
"Every day!"

El mundo es un pañuelo

The world is a handkerchief as my Columbian flatmate in Geneva used to say, the AIESEC world is particularly small, and Bern has never been anything else than just a village.

I had my first working day as a volunteer. Given my skills and former work experience I logically ended up in the tourist information center in the railway station. I chose to work at the desk, informed Indian tourists - who were rather indifferent about the town's main event - where Rani Mukherjee and Abishek Bachchan had shot their latest bollywood movie, helped an old couple to get their postcards sent away and discussed with an old American tourist about his idea of stealing one of the little UEFA-flags that are mounted on all the buses and trams in town. He was very fond of his idea, but I am not sure if he did it in the end.
Once the game started the crowd moved towards the public viewing zones, the office emptied and the shift became a bit boring, allowing me to swap between my computer screen behind the desk, which kept me updated on the score and the TV room in the backoffice, where most of the staff was watching the game appreciating the free time.
In a nutshell, the workload was rather calm if not boring - until this short Spanish AIESECer with his three pieces of luggage on the back arrived through the door, exhausted and obviously lost. I recognized him immediately and said smilingly "Hola!"
After a silent second of surprise he stated the sentence that was already written in capital letters in his confused look: "SABI? WHAT THE FUCK?"
I explained him my newest job role.
"Bern is a very small place, you better get used to it." I advised him on the town that is meant to become his workplace for a year starting from now, while trying to call his fellow AIESECers who could liberate him of his luggage problem. As I could reach none of them, he finally decided to leave towards the fanzone with all his bags to meet them.

"You knew the guy? Who was it?" the colleague at the counter next to me asked. I explained him.
"Did you explain him the way to the city limits?" he laughed sarcastically.
"No!" I answered, there was no need. As usual I just did my job.

Shortly after this the Czechs showed Switzerland that the luck was on their side. I was also asked to spend the last bit of my shift at the info counter in the station's main hall. So I spent two hours sitting in a truck sized football, informing tired mid fifties when to catch the first train home, advising worried teenagers how they could make it home with the last train before the curfew,
watching drunk youngsters messing up the railway station and observing a loud parade of not very sober Dutch fans making their way towards the public viewing area.
I loved it!

Hopp Schwiiz!

Let's get started. The first game starts in a bit more than 3 hours, my first shift in a bit more than one.

Welkom/Bienvenue/Bien venuto/Bine ati venit

I posted so much bad stuff here, it is my duty to post the good things as well.

A day that started with pain got better with every hour. The two past days have proven me again, that when the pain comes, I cannot switch it off just easily, but I can patch it to a certain extend.

I went for a great coffee chat with Sue in the afternoon today. We talked about so many things. But what stayed in my mind was that we found out how much of our parents' cultures has remained in us, despite being so well assimilated into Swiss society. A funny point was the question: "If Switzerland plays football against your country of origin, which team do you support?"
I actually support Switzerland in football, as the other way round it would be nothing but wasting hope. But in general in most sports my two home countries do not meet on a high level. Always one clearly outperforms the other, no matter if it is water polo, fencing, swimming and canoeing (Hungary) or tennis, football, sailing and skiing (Switzerland).
For Sue it was different.

After the coffee I went again to the hospital, not for my checkup (I already had two this week) but to visit my friend again, whose meningitis infection made a comeback. So again he is hanging on the infusion.

Last but not least I attended the info evening of the EURO2008 volunteer organization. We were told some general information about the event and our mission and basics in the languages of the teams hosted (e. g. "Hup Holland hup/Allez les bleus/Forza Italia/Haide Romania") as well as basics in politeness and customer care.
I realized, that I actually am the best volunteer for this event possible. My medication avoids me from feeling hunger and pushes my blood pressure on a level which keeps me working without getting exhausted until I decide to take the other medication that makes me fall asleep. Ok, I have the memory of a goldfish, but I can still keep sentences like "Goeden dag/Bonjour/Buon giorno/Buna ziu" in my head.
Once the information event was over, they asked for volunteers who could help finishing the "volunteer welcome packages". They are to be picked up tomorrow. I remembered having done this task once for another organisation.
Anyway, the task had originally been delegated to a high school class from Winterthur, who had joint the EURO 2008 OC as a school project. When I was in high school, we went to Celerina/GR
up in the Alps, and my project made me climb mountains measuring the 24 hour temperature curve between 1800 and 2200m above Sea level.
Today's kids have an easier life (I feel old writing this), but at least I taught them some Bernese while helping them ("Iuh heisst ja uf Bärndütsch!"). I remember not learning any Rumantsch in my week in Schlarigna.
Preparing the packages I happened to find my own. But I'll have to pick it up tomorrow as all the others. I even found the packages of two people I know and who also joint the volunteer team. I could not refrain from putting a greeting note into the one of one of them. He is not reading this blog, hence I can share it here as a secret. Anna, Simone, don't even think about telling him!

Moving back towards the relevant

I remember a time where my brain was fully functional and when I was able to do political analysis. Leave me alone with this subject today, my head is killing me once more right now. But as eventually he did it, I hope they are able to move back towards the relevant.

Bärn fägt

Seeking for answers can turn into frustration, if instead you only find new question marks. Been to the hospital. Too many assumptions, too little clarity on what has caused all this. A very long treatment might be in front of me.

And now the good news:
The EURO 2008 organizing committee has finally found my application as a volunteer. Apparently their server swallowed my email address and did not forward me the newsletters and the invitation for the training day in the first place. Meanwhile I had given up hope and thought they just forgot about me and said to myself, in my state it might be better if I stay at home anyway.
But Saturday morning they called me and apologized for their error. They asked me if I spoke French and English fluently. Well, I lived more than five years in Geneva and worked for three years in English speaking teams, I told them. I was in!
This morning I received my schedule for June. It is going to be fun!
This is exactly the distraction I have been looking for after two months of fighting and apathy. My current state should allow this part time commitment - or I just leave. Too many things have been turning around the bitch recently - and keep turning. I need a change. I need a challenge, I need the proof that I can get back into real life in one way or the other for a while, even if my cure is still far away.

I was aksed why I had applied in the first place. I did because I wanted to work with people again, as I had been doing for more than 10 years before doing office jobs. And I wanted to because I wanted to be part of this great event that MY city is hosting. But before it starts, the city will celebrate itself first: Friday night with a concert on the federal square. Züri West and Patent Ochsner. I'll be there!

Just like a pill

You can call me nuts, but I always have this burning feeling under my hair every time before my state changes. I had that feeling again 5 minutes ago and I think now the pain has weakened that was with me for the last few hours.

The good news: the side effects have gone back to a minimum. Hell, it was about to happen eventually, three weeks after the change of the medication dose (which initiated them). I still have the doctor in my ear saying back than:
"You might feel again some side effects now that we increase the dose, but you also might not." You bet I did. And the next doctor who gets ideas about switching the dose again, will be taught by me why aggression is listed among the drug's "possible" side effects!
Anyway, now they are mostly gone, so it is only me and the bitch who remain in the ring. But I am yet too tired for fighting it again, the last weeks were just too exhausting. On the other hand, now that I reached the medication level that should actually bring the cure, why not letting all the poison that I swallow do the job? For a while at least?

Swallowing the pills itself seems hard enough. The other night I swallowed my "dinner" just before going to bed like every night, switched of the light and went to sleep. After one second it came to my mind: "Shit, I swallowed the wrong one!"
Beside pills that are meant to be swallowed in the case of emergency, I have to take one (orange) pill to make me sleep, and one (red) called "rocket fuel" to get me an energy boost. Guess which one I have to take when! Given the "fun" the drugs have caused to me since the beginning of my treatment, I did not feel like taking chances.
With my own swearing in my ear I got out of bed again, grabbed the phone and called the hospital. The doc on the other end remained stoic, said something about "no immediate danger", "possible insomnia" and advised me to take guess what? More pills!

Long Road to Ruin

If you sneeze now reading this blog, you will probably not think why, not be assuming an upcoming cold. If your head is aching, you will not think of any disease, just assume you are having a hard day. If your back is itchy, you will just scratch yourself and not think of any skin problem. If your stomach is rumbling you will not suspect a food poisoning. You will just ignore it.

Like a sneeze, a headache or a scratchy body part my illness started with symptoms most of us meet in their life. It is just annoying, but if it stays over months and years it becomes life threatening. And this makes it so dangerous, people do not realize over a very long time, that they are actually ill. Same for me.

I can blame the bitch for my current state, but it did give me some hints, which only now I get to understand. I remember of April 2004, being clearly in a state where these symptoms were impossible to appear. But I remember one hint during the last Euro in June 2004, one when I left Geneva in April 2005, one when I started my MC-term, one midterm in December, one in April 2006 just before KickOff , more and more during autumn 2006, several in the week when I was matched and the ones after, one 40 minutes before I boarded the plane out of Switzerland, one in my first week in Mumbai at 1am in the "RockBottom"-Disco, one in August 2007 on a Sunday afternoon, more and more during September, many all through October, one the day before Divali, one in the week before I left for Christmas vacation, one that clearly stated that I was seriously ill on the weekend before I left Bombay when zigzagging on the back of a motorbike between rickshaws and other Mumbai traffic on the way from Andheri to St. Cruz in a Saturday night, one on the morning after when I woke up in Andheri and many many more between the day I arrived back in Switzerland and Easter Monday. Of course this list is not exhaustive.
I also remember a discussion that I had with a friend in autumn 2005, which now makes much more sense than back then.

But I never felt bad enough to think that something might be fundamentally wrong with me. I did not think the bitch was back. You think you are just a bit exhausted, unfit, but in fact your body refuses to produce the essential. Your body starts working against you, refuses its support and your orders.

I have too much time to think about this on one hand, but also have to know what caused it on the other.
But I also have too much time to read about symptoms and watch (mostly on TV) doctors working. Should stop watching Scrubs and ER, they are unreal. My life is not.

What if?

It has been two months now.

I survived another month. And for hell's sake, looking at the last days it was not easy. I thought I would wait with a new post until I feel better, but that would be too long of a break.
I even was going to stay at the hospital for a few days. But I realized that there I could not get anything what I would not have here at home as well, except a nurse within a 30 seconds reach, boring food, the disgusting smell of illness and strange room mates - in a nutshell an environment that makes me even more ill than I already am. I don't want to go to hospital, I thought about it intensively. All together I spent already 1 month of my life in hospitals. I prefer swallowing my medicine at home, which is in 15 minutes reach to the hospital.
I took some measures however, to always be on the safe side, no matter where I am and what time of the day or night it is and whatever condition I might drop into.

Last night I had dinner at a friend's place. He said, I would not look ill at all. Well thanks. This is not exactly the kind of comment that I need these days. I actually have trouble to make people understand that I am physically not able to commit for certain things. I already have trouble enough to say that I need help, don't make it even harder to me.
My healing takes too long, if there is any.
I said to Trisch after the first month already, that if I had my leg broken, I would already be rid of the plaster.
"Yes, but you could not walk!"
"Meanwhile I could walk!" I told him today!
"Yes, but yet you could not run." I hate it when he is right.
"Du muesch dir zyt lah..." he commented.

I was going to write something positive, but my attitude is too negative I feel. My state keeps changing, and in this very moment I feel quite ok. However, unlike the month before I did not really feel any improvement. The symptoms change, so do the side effects, the illness stays, teaching me lessons on how powerful it is.

This is as positive as it gets today: I don't think I am going to die in the end. But I feel death too close every day, to be rid of the question "What if?".

Kinda good news

My knee hurts! Why this is good news? Well, for the first time since end of March I have a handicap that is not related to the bitch, and also this means that there is a weather change coming up! The clouds will go!

More good news: I think slowly the side effects are weakening, or let's better say become more balanced. Hard to describe, as so much in this illness.

The bad news: something happened this morning that never happened before like this. I woke up and immediately fell into panic. I felt fear. I felt that the strength that is needed to survive all this might not be with me, not stay with me until the end. I was afraid of loosing the fight, of giving in. It is my will that has to keep me alive. I am not allowed to loose it. If the side effects are killing my force, what shall I fight the bitch with?

I have to ignore my feelings these days. Reason is not relevant I already wrote this last week.

My head...

...is killing me today. I felt it already when I got out of bed. I felt this day would be of no use. My mind felt crippled. Even now it is hard for me to write, building sentences.

In the morning, realizing that job applications or any other intellectual task would be impossible, I decided to go for a jog. I also kept my promise later cooking for the Eigerstrasse-gang. I hoped it would distract me and gratefully it did. I also managed to exhume a forgotten document from the MC server that might be reincarnated in a new form by my grandkids. In the best case I saved them from doing 2 days of extra work, in the worst case I wasted 5 minutes of my time. A fair deal I would say.

Saturday, when I had my window of good feeling, I was hoping that this week I could finally announce that the Illness is not perilous anymore. But somehow the bitch puts all its efforts in making me feel, how deadly it can be if one is not bloody cautious. Is it that what you wanted to prove me, bitch? That you have the power to kill me? You have, I agree. You got that point: 10:13. But you will not! I promise! Yes, it helps a lot that I have already been through this once.

I can announce though, that I keep extending my record in not having to call the hospital's emergency hotline. Today it is three weeks, the longest period since all this started in March. But I have been on the edge of calling today several times. It is not over yet. In a few weeks hopefully the medication is going to be fully impacting, rather than just challenging me with side effects. Why are the pills that are supposed to save my life causing me all this torture?
Anyway, it is 10pm soon, I will drop in the pill and end this day of pain.

Last but not least: there was a song in my mind when I woke up this morning. And I met it later again during the day when it run on the radio. It suits...

Frustration

Yes, I want to know WHY THE F**** I am ill, but I am also afraid of what I might learn out of it. I am afraid of finding out the price I have paid so far. I am afraid of realizing what all I have lost. I am afraid of seeing what I might have caused to myself by ignoring the symptoms. I feel guilty. I feel frustrated. No matter how much I fight, I cannot accelerate the healing. I cannot get back what is gone for good. I can get back my health one day probably, but not the time I lose on the way getting there. Yes, I take things out of this, but honestly, I could be very happy without.

Had my weekly checkup, we tried to find out where all this comes from. It was exhausting, I felt like wasting my time.

However, I have to say thank you to two people. First Sue, who I had a great chat with in the afternoon over facebook. And second Simone, who just told me to join the LCBern LCM and an info session on Xchange with India rather than sitting around at home in apathy, as I did the last two days. I have to force myself to some social life these days.

Last but not least a funny little story out of the AIESEC network. I met Abijith today, an LCVP from Chennai, who during his family holiday in Switzerland took the occasion to vist the MC and LCBern to promote Chennai and India as an AIESEC-destination. I helped him joining the session and shared my experiences as a Westerner in India to AIESEC Members. After the meeting I guided him to the Zytglogge, where he would meet with his parents and sister. On the way there we saw Moritz Leuenberger in the street. I could tell him: "Look, this gentleman is our minister of transport."
A simple man with a briefcase, no bodyguard, no escort, he actually walks as a pedestrian (When I was in Chennai we saw the governor's convoy pass through, ten cars full of security guards surrounding the one in which the governor would sit).
Eventually arriving at the zytglogge, Abijith introduced me to his family and told them that I had been living in Bombay for a year. "No stranger to India than!" His mum recognized.
I was just agreeing with a smile and wagging my head as only Indians do. The way I hadn't since my arrival from India.

No matter how long the illness might have been with me, in the end it did not avoid me from exploring the world. I am proud of that.

Up and down and up and down again

F***ing bloody side effects! The day had started so well, full of energy and with a big laugh.

Around noon I met Cileia in the Facebook-chat. She asked how I felt, and I happily told her that I was very well, which was how I felt. After five minutes I left the chat for having lunch, and ten minutes later my stomach taught me a lesson on who the boss is, or at least claims to be. The bitch had stroken. I became furious, slammed my fist against the cupboard. Now I have a bruise on my wrist as well. I went from depression into euphoria and back again, met hypertension on the way, nervousnes, aggression. My appetite is gone. It feels like in a week I lost the 4 kilos that I gained since the start of my treatment. It feels like killing the illness it was forgotten that in the end the patient should still be alive.
The human metabolism is such a sophisticated and complex machine, that any intervention can only cause harm before the intended improvement appears. I just have to believe that the improvement is going to come. My reason should keep me back from swallowing that stupid red pill in the morning, when I feel ok. That pill that causes all these side effects. But the reason is not the deciding factor here. I am not to listen to it. Weird enough.

Last but not least, I should recap the score again: My generally improved state that was proven in two consecutive checkups gives me 2 points, the fact that I my brain works again for a few hours a day gives me another two. The side effects and the lows in the past two weeks give 2 points to the bitch though! 10:12, the bitch still in the lead! Hehe, but I am catching up!

But I keep cautious. Feeling good does not mean being good, yet!

Bad Day

After having shot hundreds of portraits of other people, I tried to use the remote and automatic function of my camera to take a self portrait. Not exactly my best shot, but as good as it gets.

I kind of lived a normal life the last few days and maybe that is one of the reasons why the bitch had a new appearance yesterday and today. Anyway, I already decided yesterday, that today should be severe chilling.
I went for a jog in the morning, did 30 minutes of nasty administration and phonecalls and went for a haircut. The bitch was always with me, but two bad days in a week are fair enough these days. Hopefully tomorrow it is going to be better again.

The bitch is back, but...

OK, just shortly the bad news: my state went down down down since 1 pm today. I also found out, why my teeth have been aching these days: because I am clenching them half the day, while under the bitch's pain.

The good news: I had a first half of the week where there was hardly any bitch. I sent out some job applications again (unimaginable 2 weeks back yet). I have a few hour long window every morning now, where I am able to concentrate. I am still not sure if I am in a state where I should attend a job interview though (neither is my doc).

Yesterday I had a last minute email from LCBasel, saying they needed urgently a photographer. I made it to the Rhine on time and had a wonderful evening taking snaps and having a beer after the LCM. One of them had the idea of using a globe as a theme for all portraits: it came out great!

They were very grateful for my work, I was grateful for them keeping me busy - and of course the bottle of wine that I received as a gift. Someone actually asked me, if I was allowed to drink given my state and medication. Well...

Of course my doc said I should be careful. In practice this means, that usually I drink two beers in the presence of Tristan who is a doc himself anyway, so nothing can happen. On a more serious note: I am being careful (ignore KickOff).
The doc also advised me to be careful when driving a car. Well, I never had a driver's license, so I am not intending to. I ride the bike of course.
"Maybe also there you should be careful, otherwise you might ignore a red light or similar while driving under medication."
"I actually ignore red lights even when sober and/or healthy." I answered. The doc remained silent.
In a nutshell, my life is hopefully getting as normal as it can become under the given conditions. And last but not least: If tonight my bad state does not worsen more and I don't have to call the emergency line, I will have a beaten the 13 day record. Take this bitch! Your hostage is getting ready for an escape.