A week ago I felt what I thought was the onset of a cold. I started taking the usual OTC meds, but this nasty bug immediately settled in my lungs. I had to sleep upright in a recliner just to breathe. By Saturday, John insisted I go to a doctor to get this checked out, and the search for cause and cure began.
When we first moved to Atenas, we were not yet covered under Costa Rica's national health care system, Caja Costarricense del Seguro Social (CCSS or CAJA). So we affiliated with a a local health care provider called "Linea Vital." They offers private English-speaking medical care for the Atenas community. Clinic staff provide home visits, emergency care and general medical services.
Saturday, I saw Doctora Candy and when she listened to my lungs she said, "Muchos Gatos" (or many cats)! She put me on 4 nebulizer treatments, gave me an injection for inflammation and sent me home with antibiotics, inhalers, and a bunch of other meds to try to assault whatever was attacking my lungs. She told me to come back on Monday and meet with Doctora Hernández, who would be filling in for here for a few days. By Monday, I was still the same, or maybe a little worse. Doctora Hernández gave me 3 more nebulizer treatments, another injection and changed the antibiotic to something stronger. She suspected pneumonia of some type had set in. Since we are now members of the national health care system all of our medical is covered, so she sent me off to the local CAJA clinic for blood work and x-rays. I was handed the results for the blood work in 30 minutes, but it would take two days to get results for x-rays. Yesterday, We opted to go to a private facility in Alajuela (about 30 minutes from us) and get the x-ray done and receive the results the same day. It took us about 3 hours and we were back to see Doctora Hernández with all the results. She diagnosed bacterial pneumonia due to the raised white blood cell count and some cloudiness she saw on the x-rays. So, she sent me back to the local CAJA clinic with an emergency referral for treatment.
At the clinic they took me right to the head of the line where I met with the intake nurse and doctor to assess the treatment so far. This doctor started thinking Asthma and put me on a course of 4 rounds of nebulizer treatments, i.v. drip and more injections. He called in another doctor to consult and they decided I still needed 3 more nebulizer treatments and another i.v. injection. Now, let me tell you during all of the this treatment, they have my blood pressure all over the map, the highest I have ever seen it in my life and I've got the shakes due to the drug induced tachycardia. My pulse rate was over 115. By 4 p.m., the local clinic was getting ready to close for the day, so the attending doctor check my status a determined there was still no improvement so they needed to transport me to the big hospital in Alajuela for treatment and off I go...
John went back to the house to take care of the dogs, pick up some stuff for me that I might need and arrange for someone to guard the house. During the trip to the hospital, I called my dear friend Maritza, an R.N. that recently retired from this same hospital. She wasn't home, so I explained what was going on to her husband, Vinicio. He said he would update her as soon as he could.
We arrived at the hospital emergency room around 5 p.m. and they immediately took me to the head of the line to see the intake nurse and attending physician. The doctor, reviewed all the the previous results, checked me out and decided I needed more nebulizer treatments, blood pressure meds, more blood work and antibiotics.
So, off I go to the "Sala de Asma" for nebulizer treatments, etc. I sent John a text message telling him where he could find me when he arrived at the hospital. As soon as he got to the hospital, they sent him right in to see me.
I met with another doctor in the Sala de Asma and it turns out he lives in my neighborhood of Atenas and knew me as the neighbor that had provided all the electricity and water for a recent fiesta in the plaza across from our house where they held bull racing, horse racing, dances, etc. He was bragging to all the rest of the patients about what a good neighbor I am. Small world.
About this time, Maritza called and said she was coming directly to the hospital. Maritza is one of those "take charge" kind of people, that instills the belief that everything will be fine. She holds several advanced degrees in nursing and retired at the pinnacle of career in health care. She has seen it all. I have known and loved this woman for longer than I have known and loved my children. She was born 3 days before I was and I consider her the twin sister I never had.
In walks Maritza, and of course all the staff members are delighted to see her, hugs and kisses for everyone. She talks to me, takes my blood pressure and then talks with my doctor. Suddenly she turns around to me and says she knows exactly what has caused this pulmonary episode. She said she was sure it was a combination of dust, mold, mildew and bacteria.
Maritza reminded me that we had just started to unpack all of our household goods that have been in storage for a year. In spite of all the care we took with everything, our stuff arrived in a sea container last August, in the middle of the rainy season and immediately went into a garage and attic for long term storage. We had to store everything while the new Casa was under construction. We finally moved in a couple of weeks ago and we have gradually been moving the stored furniture and boxes into the new casa before opening them. Bad move! All we did was release all the mold spores and bacteria into the new house.
Well the doctor pretty much concurred with Maritza's medial assessment and decided the nebulizer treatments weren't going to cure this, but he wanted to see the blood work first to see if the antibiotics where improving anything. The results came back and the white blood cell count was down somewhat. They finally cut me loose from the hospital with more meds and instruction to see my local CAJA doctor in a week, or sooner if I get worse.
Last night, instead of trying to sleep in what is probably a mold infested recliner, I opted for our bed with a large stack of super clean pillows, and I finally got some rest after a sleep deprived week.
So, the bottom line... I think I may be on the road to recovery. As a word of warning... don't ever think you can put all of your belongings in an storage facility where the environment is exposed to the elements of nature. Especially here in Costa Rica's tropical climate. The jungle will always try to take over and claim your stuff as it's own.
Read the whole story...
Showing posts with label Alajuela. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alajuela. Show all posts
27 June 2012
25 November 2007
Making a "new" car a "used" car
Yep. Another wonderful trip to Costa Rica. But this one had some twists.
We left Houston on a drearily dark day with storms raging around the greater metropolitan area. Fortunately, at the international airport, the rain was light and the expected Thanksgiving crowds were strangely absent. We breezed right into parking; straight through bag check-in; and, went through security with zero waiting – we were the only people in line.
The plane was lightly filled so we were lucky enough to have the center seat empty between us. Minutes after takeoff, the plane burst through the grey and into the bright sunshine. Here we come … Vacation!
As we got off the plane, we were surprised to be met at the gate by Manrique, Pat’s cousin, who is in the travel business and knew how to get us through Customs and the airport in record time.
Manrique drove us to the off-airport Toyota Auto Rental office where our reserved rental car was ready for us. A brand new little 4x4 with 10km on the odometer. Simple paperwork and walk-around got us on the road, following Manrique to La Casa de Vinicio, his father’s house.
The greeting at curbside when we arrived at Vinicio’s was that especially warm Tico welcome that is one of the nicest things one can experience. Vinicio parked our rental car up tightly between a tree and the house so that, “They’ll have to steal that tree to steal the car.”
A grand evening with family and friends followed and then we retired early.
Sunday morning, more family visits started again at 7am. By 9am, many people had come in and out, passing the rental car. Maritza, Vinicio’s wife and Pat’s dear friend, served us all a typical (huge) Tico breakfast up above the house in the “Ranchito.” (A little retreat area up at the top of their property where the breezes blow and the view is breathtaking.)
We had finished breakfast and were relaxing in the early summer breeze when Vinicio’s phone rang. A friend was driving past the house and was calling to say that “the car in front of your house has been broken into!” We all ran to the front street.
Sure enough. The brand new rental car sat there amid a pile of broken glass “popcorn.” I think that it was now classifiable as “used.” Broad daylight. Sunday morning. In a quiet neighborhood. Sheesh! There was “popcorn” all over the interior, accompanied by a large rock, sitting on the floor, beneath the broken window. Missing from the inside of the car was only one thing: the faceplate off the radio. Nothing else. They broke in for nothing. But what an inconvenience THIS would become.
After cleaning up the mess, Vinicio called the Toyota Rental people and they said to just bring the car back to them. With the wind pounding through the gaping hole, Pat and I drove back to Toyota. When I took the lead, speaking in English to the Rental Agents, it seemed like they didn’t know what I was talking about or perhaps they just didn’t know much at all. A slightly more “in charge” type finally walked from behind the counter, took the keys from me and walked out to the car. He got in, looked around and asked in perfect English, “So what’s wrong with this?” Also in English, Pat burst out, “Well the window is gone – they broke into the car and stole the face off the radio!”
“Oh.”
We went back inside and there were many minutes of frantic phone calls, in Spanish, all of which Pat (clandestinely) understood. The “responsible guy” started in about a police report. We had to have a police report. They couldn’t do anything without one.
Pat exploded in Spanish and the startled look on the Agent’s faces was “precioso.”
(In Spanish) “So we have to take the car all the way back to Vinicio’s, wait for a police report, bring the car back here and then exchange it?!?”
“Well that is only if we have a car to replace it,” said the Agent.
I couldn’t translate what Pat said next, but after the Agent got his heart restarted, we suddenly were told that the replacement car would be clean and ready for us, brought over from the “downtown location” and available within 3 hours. All we had to do was get a police report.
We left with the car and went back to Vinicio’s.
When we arrived, the police were called.
“Well, the futbol game (soccer) is on TV. We can’t come for a half hour. You better call us back to remind us.”
Lesson one: They’re watching a soccer game. They’re busy, thank you. Don’t bother me now.
My first experience with the unique functionings of Tico government. Wow.
We didn’t have to remind them. About a half hour later, two officers showed up on Policia (Ministerio de Seguridad Publica Delegación Cantonal Fuerza Publica Alajuela) dirt bikes and were standing, staring at the broken window when we got outside. Both Pat and Vinicio launched into a big explanation.
The “boss officer” asked for a piece of paper. Vinicio went into the house and got a sheet of blank, ruled notebook paper and a large book. The officer took these. Using Vinicio’s book as his “desk” he wrote down all the details that he needed (on the blank paper!) folded it up and put it in his pocket.
“I’ll go back to my barracks now and fill out a report, get the stamp on it and bring it right back.” “I’m almost back,” he wisecracked as he rode off with is amigo cop.
Lesson two: Bring your own paper and writing surface. The police carry neither forms nor clip boards.
Our Seguridad gentleman was “almost back” 55 minutes later. I guess that is really fast around here.
Nonetheless, the required paperwork was a pleasant surprise. The Official Form was a piece of letterhead, with a Xeroxed header giving the date, time, officer’s names and approximate location, followed by a dozen ruled lines. At the bottom is a place for a rubber-stamped official seal and everybody’s signature. In the header boxes and in the ruled lines, was a hand-written rough description of what the officers observed. Nothing more. No shutting down the highway for 8 hours while CSI does a full investigation with lasers, GPS, measuring wheels, AutoCAD drawings of the site, video, 10.2 megapixel photographs of several hundred different views of the crime scene, DNA swabs, special sprays to detect blood and absolutely not a single news helicopter in the sky. What’s the matter with this country?
¡Pura Vida!
Wait wait wait. Wait until the appointed hour when the Toyota people promised our replacement car. Eventually, we called, at the beginning of the quoted time span and were told that it would be ready in 15 minutes. It would take longer than that to drive to the rental office.
Away we went. On arrival, we bounded into the office, ready to get the new car and we were met by a fresh face that we hadn’t seen before – and nobody else.
“We brought back the damaged car and we’re here to pick up its replacement,” I started.
“Huh?” said the clerk. “I just got here and nobody told me anything.”
Oh, cripes.
After much explanation by Pat, in Spanish, and plenty more time on the phone the new guy told us that the car would be there in 15 minutes. (15 minutes must be the Tico version of “Real soon now.”)
But soon, around the corner came the car. They closed out the old contract (only now, at this point, because, well, you know, they were REALLY busy all day with all of those other 2 customers they had,) and wrote up our new one, did the walk around with us on the replacement car – and we were off. {Note: This replacement car was the identical make and model, but was far from new. Maybe they didn’t want to risk getting another new vehicle “inaugurated”?}
Lesson three: Always buy ALL of the insurance from the rental guys in CR. I can’t imagine what we would have gone through if they had needed payment for this broken window and the missing radio faceplate. We’d probably be writing this from the Grey-Bar Motel.
More later.
Read the whole story...
We left Houston on a drearily dark day with storms raging around the greater metropolitan area. Fortunately, at the international airport, the rain was light and the expected Thanksgiving crowds were strangely absent. We breezed right into parking; straight through bag check-in; and, went through security with zero waiting – we were the only people in line.
The plane was lightly filled so we were lucky enough to have the center seat empty between us. Minutes after takeoff, the plane burst through the grey and into the bright sunshine. Here we come … Vacation!
As we got off the plane, we were surprised to be met at the gate by Manrique, Pat’s cousin, who is in the travel business and knew how to get us through Customs and the airport in record time.
Manrique drove us to the off-airport Toyota Auto Rental office where our reserved rental car was ready for us. A brand new little 4x4 with 10km on the odometer. Simple paperwork and walk-around got us on the road, following Manrique to La Casa de Vinicio, his father’s house.
The greeting at curbside when we arrived at Vinicio’s was that especially warm Tico welcome that is one of the nicest things one can experience. Vinicio parked our rental car up tightly between a tree and the house so that, “They’ll have to steal that tree to steal the car.”
A grand evening with family and friends followed and then we retired early.
Sunday morning, more family visits started again at 7am. By 9am, many people had come in and out, passing the rental car. Maritza, Vinicio’s wife and Pat’s dear friend, served us all a typical (huge) Tico breakfast up above the house in the “Ranchito.” (A little retreat area up at the top of their property where the breezes blow and the view is breathtaking.)
We had finished breakfast and were relaxing in the early summer breeze when Vinicio’s phone rang. A friend was driving past the house and was calling to say that “the car in front of your house has been broken into!” We all ran to the front street.
Sure enough. The brand new rental car sat there amid a pile of broken glass “popcorn.” I think that it was now classifiable as “used.” Broad daylight. Sunday morning. In a quiet neighborhood. Sheesh! There was “popcorn” all over the interior, accompanied by a large rock, sitting on the floor, beneath the broken window. Missing from the inside of the car was only one thing: the faceplate off the radio. Nothing else. They broke in for nothing. But what an inconvenience THIS would become.
After cleaning up the mess, Vinicio called the Toyota Rental people and they said to just bring the car back to them. With the wind pounding through the gaping hole, Pat and I drove back to Toyota. When I took the lead, speaking in English to the Rental Agents, it seemed like they didn’t know what I was talking about or perhaps they just didn’t know much at all. A slightly more “in charge” type finally walked from behind the counter, took the keys from me and walked out to the car. He got in, looked around and asked in perfect English, “So what’s wrong with this?” Also in English, Pat burst out, “Well the window is gone – they broke into the car and stole the face off the radio!”
“Oh.”
We went back inside and there were many minutes of frantic phone calls, in Spanish, all of which Pat (clandestinely) understood. The “responsible guy” started in about a police report. We had to have a police report. They couldn’t do anything without one.
Pat exploded in Spanish and the startled look on the Agent’s faces was “precioso.”
(In Spanish) “So we have to take the car all the way back to Vinicio’s, wait for a police report, bring the car back here and then exchange it?!?”
“Well that is only if we have a car to replace it,” said the Agent.
I couldn’t translate what Pat said next, but after the Agent got his heart restarted, we suddenly were told that the replacement car would be clean and ready for us, brought over from the “downtown location” and available within 3 hours. All we had to do was get a police report.
We left with the car and went back to Vinicio’s.
When we arrived, the police were called.
“Well, the futbol game (soccer) is on TV. We can’t come for a half hour. You better call us back to remind us.”
Lesson one: They’re watching a soccer game. They’re busy, thank you. Don’t bother me now.
My first experience with the unique functionings of Tico government. Wow.
We didn’t have to remind them. About a half hour later, two officers showed up on Policia (Ministerio de Seguridad Publica Delegación Cantonal Fuerza Publica Alajuela) dirt bikes and were standing, staring at the broken window when we got outside. Both Pat and Vinicio launched into a big explanation.
The “boss officer” asked for a piece of paper. Vinicio went into the house and got a sheet of blank, ruled notebook paper and a large book. The officer took these. Using Vinicio’s book as his “desk” he wrote down all the details that he needed (on the blank paper!) folded it up and put it in his pocket.
“I’ll go back to my barracks now and fill out a report, get the stamp on it and bring it right back.” “I’m almost back,” he wisecracked as he rode off with is amigo cop.
Lesson two: Bring your own paper and writing surface. The police carry neither forms nor clip boards.
Our Seguridad gentleman was “almost back” 55 minutes later. I guess that is really fast around here.
Nonetheless, the required paperwork was a pleasant surprise. The Official Form was a piece of letterhead, with a Xeroxed header giving the date, time, officer’s names and approximate location, followed by a dozen ruled lines. At the bottom is a place for a rubber-stamped official seal and everybody’s signature. In the header boxes and in the ruled lines, was a hand-written rough description of what the officers observed. Nothing more. No shutting down the highway for 8 hours while CSI does a full investigation with lasers, GPS, measuring wheels, AutoCAD drawings of the site, video, 10.2 megapixel photographs of several hundred different views of the crime scene, DNA swabs, special sprays to detect blood and absolutely not a single news helicopter in the sky. What’s the matter with this country?
¡Pura Vida!Wait wait wait. Wait until the appointed hour when the Toyota people promised our replacement car. Eventually, we called, at the beginning of the quoted time span and were told that it would be ready in 15 minutes. It would take longer than that to drive to the rental office.
Away we went. On arrival, we bounded into the office, ready to get the new car and we were met by a fresh face that we hadn’t seen before – and nobody else.
“We brought back the damaged car and we’re here to pick up its replacement,” I started.
“Huh?” said the clerk. “I just got here and nobody told me anything.”
Oh, cripes.
After much explanation by Pat, in Spanish, and plenty more time on the phone the new guy told us that the car would be there in 15 minutes. (15 minutes must be the Tico version of “Real soon now.”)
But soon, around the corner came the car. They closed out the old contract (only now, at this point, because, well, you know, they were REALLY busy all day with all of those other 2 customers they had,) and wrote up our new one, did the walk around with us on the replacement car – and we were off. {Note: This replacement car was the identical make and model, but was far from new. Maybe they didn’t want to risk getting another new vehicle “inaugurated”?}
Lesson three: Always buy ALL of the insurance from the rental guys in CR. I can’t imagine what we would have gone through if they had needed payment for this broken window and the missing radio faceplate. We’d probably be writing this from the Grey-Bar Motel.
More later.
Read the whole story...
11 February 2007
A Busy Weekend...
We left Trogon Lodge Friday morning and took a leisurely drive back toward San Jose so that John could make his appointment with the Audiologist in the afternoon. We found state-of-the-art hearing aids cost half of what they cost in the States! John went ahead and placed an order that we will pick-up on Monday. Friday night Marco and Carolina took us to dinner at a wonderful resort near Alajuela called Xandari. We managed to get a table on the open balcony with a fabulous view of the Central Valley. 
Saturday we went shopping with Maritza for souvenirs and took a drive up to Zarcero (dairy country) for lunch. While we were there we took some of the topiary photos you see here.
Sunday we spent some time in the central park of Alajuela and then we went for a drive with Vinicio & Maritza stopping for dinner along the way. After dinner we went to meet Maritza neice's husband, Minor, who just happens to be a builder. We took a look at his portfolio and discussed what it will take to build our house in Costa Rica. At first we would like to build a detached garage with a studio apartment upstairs that we can live in while the actual house is being built. Minor is going to work up a proposal for us so that we'll have an idea of what it will take to make this happen.
Read the whole story...
Saturday we went shopping with Maritza for souvenirs and took a drive up to Zarcero (dairy country) for lunch. While we were there we took some of the topiary photos you see here.
Sunday we spent some time in the central park of Alajuela and then we went for a drive with Vinicio & Maritza stopping for dinner along the way. After dinner we went to meet Maritza neice's husband, Minor, who just happens to be a builder. We took a look at his portfolio and discussed what it will take to build our house in Costa Rica. At first we would like to build a detached garage with a studio apartment upstairs that we can live in while the actual house is being built. Minor is going to work up a proposal for us so that we'll have an idea of what it will take to make this happen.
Read the whole story...
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