You're Doing It Wrong

Ski jump in Garmisch-Partenkirchen

Well that wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected. But I was expecting it to be a horrendous nightmare so your results may vary.

I was advised that the prep would be a lot easier if I ate lightly the days before the procedure. I started cutting way back on Monday and mostly ate canned fruit and vegetables and rice. Except when I got a hamburger for lunch on Tuesday because I wanted to be one of those people who says. “No lettuce or tomatoes. None of that vegetable stuff.”

By Thursday morning I was all shaky and insane-feeling from not eating but since I took the day off, I had the brilliant idea that we should run a few errands before I had to start my thing. I followed Bob around stores half-weeping asking why it was taking so long. When it’s your turn just stay home and watch movies.

For my prep I had to start with 4 little pills and they made me feel queasy.

Bob came upstairs and asked how I was doing.

Me: Go away.

Bob: (laughs in a sympathetic “I’ve been there” way)

Me: Stop laughing at me. When you had to do this did I go downstairs and laugh at you?

Bob: I’m not laughing at you.

Me: You’re looking at me and you’re laughing so it feels like you’re laughing at me.

Bob: (backing slowly from the room) There’s nothing I can say right, is there?

Me: No!

After an hour I had to drink a half gallon of Gatorade with a 14 day supply of laxatives in it. I’m not exaggerating for the purpose of story-telling. This is really the recipe. Oh, and you have to drink it in 2 hours.

This part caused me a lot of anxiety because I didn’t think it was possible for me to drink that much of anything in 2 hours.

Because I have a doctorate in Following The Instructions I sat at the kitchen table with a stack of magazines, a timer and a measuring cup and every 15 minutes I poured my 8 oz and sipped it through a straw. Since I hadn’t eaten in so long, it tasted great and made me feel sane again.

It did the trick and a few hours later it was mostly finished and felt fine so I cleaned the house.

The procedure was this morning. The doctor told me I could be out cold if I wanted but they prefer to do conscious sedation. I was awake during the procedure and could watch on this monitor by the bed. I thought it would be fun if there was an alien in there and first we’d see the claws and then the teeth and beady eyes. But no luck. My colon is completely healthy and I don’t have to go back for 10 years.

I ate toast and soup when I got home and watched TV and took a nap. Other than being a little sleepy, I feel like normal. As soon as I post this I’m going to finish the taxes.

And one more thing: since all that my souvenir cough is gone.

I wish we would have had a chance to check out the Wankbahn.

Me and my colon have big plans for the afternoon.

I’m signing off and will be offline until Friday night or Saturday morning.

I still have tons of trip pictures to share but I wanted to put up some backyard pictures.

As I predicted almost 3 weeks ago my souvenir chest cough is still hanging around. I’m now at the stage where 2 or 3 times a day plus at bedtime I’m overcome with a coughing fit so terrible it sounds like someone is killing me and I have to hold my hands over my face so my eyeballs don’t pop out.

The things that help are hot tea and Fisherman’s Friend so I walk around sloshing and smelling mentholated.

The deal with the colonoscopy, as I understand it, is that they like to start screening at 50 and as long as everything is normal, doing the test every 10 years.

If you have family history (and I do) and insurance that will pay for it, they like to start earlier. My doctors started bugging me about in the last couple of years and I always said that I’d call and make the appointment later. I recently had another health issue and my doctor very strongly urged me again to do the test and I caved.

The doctor said if the test is normal and my sister’s tests are normal, I go on the 10 year schedule like everyone else.

Even the horse has his eyes closed in my pictures. Garmisch-Partenkirchen Mar 10.

This is TMI week at You’re Doing It Wrong.

I’m getting a colonoscopy on Friday.

Today I have to start avoiding certain foods.

This is the list: nuts, seeds, raw fruits and vegetables.

For the average American I’m guessing this would be no problem.

I eat at least one of those things at every meal.

This morning I was making my breakfast for work and I had the yogurt and I didn’t know what to put with it. I checked all the cereals but they had nuts and seeds. All the fruits have seeds and are raw.

I finally decided to have yogurt and a Cadbury Egg.

Thanks Delta!

Last time I was with my family we had this conversation where I was talking about how anxious I am. Being late and not being prepared are things that make me anxious. I manage my anxiety by planning, writing notes, keeping on top of things and being prepared.

I’m not suggesting that this is the best way to be. I’m just saying this is how I am and this is how I deal with it.

During the family conversation I mentioned that I always make sure I have gas and before I close my car doors or trunk I always check my keys.

My sister cracked up and said: I never do that.

The other critical thing to know about me when reading this story is that I do not have a spontaneous bone in my body. Someone could come running over and say: The ghost of Elvis is jamming with the Pope, let’s go. And I’d be like: Will it be crowded? Is there parking? Do we need tickets? How long will it last? Should we eat dinner first? Maybe it’s better to stay home.

The Passion Play in Oberammergau is a BFD. They only do it every 10 years and it’s outside and like, 5 hours long. You can only be in the production if you’ve lived in the area forever and the men all look, um, rustic, so they can look natural. The play has been going since 1624. Read the history. I don’t want to watch anything that takes 5 hours if it doesn’t involve hobbits or jedis, plus it wasn’t going on while we were there, but we did wander by a rehearsal and this donkey would not go into the theater. The bearded man with his carrot and gentle voice couldn’t coax him. Even the dog couldn’t help. They tried another door but the donkey was having none of it.

This is all a set-up for the story where I tell you that last night I was writing a check for my car tags when I realized that they already expired. I’m one of those people who can roll through a stop sign in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night and still manage to get busted for it. Life is much easier for me if I just follow the rules.

The notice came while we were on vacation and when I got home I realized I needed Bob’s Drivers License number so I set it aside for when he returned. And then it got set aside again. So when I finally got around to dealing with it, it was already late.

I live in Washington. I work in Oregon. Automobile licensing is open from 9-5. The only way I can take care of it in one day is in-person. So I left work early. The express bus has a stop near the licensing office. I could jump off, get my tags, jump back on and get to the park-n-ride and be done with it. Easy.

This ski jump is in view of our hosts’ home. The Olympics were in Garmisch-Partenkirchen in 1936. I was able to take part in a senior ladies ski jumping class one afternoon. Just kidding.

Except I didn’t notice the part about how I needed my smog test until the lady in the licensing office pointed it out to me. After I’d already waiting in line for a half hour. The old notices used to say at the top in huge highlighted bold letters: You need an emission test this year. Now they don’t use color to save money. They just put it in normal type in a bulleted list right between: you need new tags and you need to write a check.

At this point it’s 4:15. I still need to walk back to the bus stop and wait for the bus to the park-n-ride. I’m guessing that emissions testing closes at 5pm. It seemed impossible but I decided to try anyway. A bus I don’t normally take but says “transit center” arrived a few minutes after I got to the stop. I jumped on. The whole time my heart was racing like I was about to rob a bank.

When I was looking up the licensing office locations the night before, there was a whole list of affiliate offices including some that didn’t close until 6pm but I didn’t print it out or pay attention because I was going to use the one by the bus stop. In my head I tried to remember where I’d seen one.

This was our second day and we were waiting in the Munich train station. I ran off probably to buy candy and when I returned I noticed the sign above Bob’s head.

Meanwhile, unbelievably, I was back at my car by 4:35. The emission station wasn’t too far away, but it was rush hour. I tried to take a short cut which failed but I was quickly routed onto the right path and I arrived at emissions testing at 4:47pm. Two cars ahead of me.

I passed the emissions test at 4:57pm. Woo! I had no idea going so close to closing was good strategy.

I finally remembered where I’d seen a licensing office: next to the liquor store I use by Safeway. Double-woo! I zoomed over there and by 5:20pm I was walking out with my tags.

Actually one tag because to save money we only have to do the rear plate now.

Whew. I can relax again.

German Train ticket purchased at Munich Airport.

When we were waiting to board the plane in Portland a loud buzzer went off. The guy who was taking the tickets closed the door to the gate and turned around and said, “Sorry. The flight is already full.”

Then he smiled and everybody laughed. It was funny mostly because I don’t often see airline personnel that playful.

He opened the door and started boarding again. Maybe there’s an alarm if the door is open a certain amount of time? And as it turned out, the flight was only about 90% full and the service amazing.

72 hours of metro use in Amsterdam. You pass this ticket in front of a thingey when you board and exit and it beeps.

On the Düsseldorf to Munich flight half the passengers were hopeless amateurs. A lady was seated in the row ahead of us when we boarded. A passenger came to claim the seat and embarrassed, she moved to the row in front. A passenger came to claim that seat and embarrassed again, she moved back to the row in front of us. By this time the person who claimed the seat in the row in front of us had discovered he was wrong and moved. Then a woman and two daughters from a country we never figured out arrived to claim the row ahead of us.

The woman seated said: This row is D – B – F

Because that makes sense.

Finally there is more seat switching until she found her correct place in seat B, strangely placed between seats A and C across the aisle.

Air Berlin had, what seemed to me, to be extremely small seats. This coming from a person who my husband insists has no ass. I had to yank on the seatbelt to get it to click shut.

The flight was only 50 minutes but they did beverage service. The snack choice was wasabe chips or a chocolate-wafery bar thing. Bob waffled when offered a choice and the young lady whispered: You can have both.

On the drop down screens they showed fake views out of a fake cockpit.

Train ticket from the train station by the hotel to the airport.

When I was a girl they were called Madonnabes. And I think there was a time when No Doubt was huge and they were called Stefanabees. Now what are they called? Gagabes? I saw flocks of them in Düsseldorf. There’s probably a more clever word than “flocks” but I can’t think of it right ow.

– – –

In Bad Kissingen I thanked Tante Hilla (in her 80’s, she would flog me for mentioning it) for being so generous with us.

She says: Pam, you can’t take it with you. The last nightdress has no pockets.

– – –

Our train passes were for first class. There were a couple of times when we didn’t know where the first class cars were so we sat in 2nd which is still pretty nice.

On the way out of Bad Kissingen we found the 1st class section which was about 8 seats in the front of the train with a clear view to the conductor and the front window of the train. It was spectacular.

My last dinner on vacation Zeppos

I usually don’t like to ask the hotel or touristy places about restaurants because I assume they’re going to send you to some generic craphole. That did not happen on this trip.

In Düsseldorf the hotel guy sent us into the Altstadt and told us there were tons of great places but he gave us two names as well. We found one of the places he mentioned and it was perfect plus they set a beer in front of me before I even asked. If I could marry a Düsseldorf restaurant (click on that link, it’s awesome), this would be it.

In the Amsterdam history museum Bob asked the adorable ticket desk clerk for some suggestions telling her it was our last night in town and we didn’t want anything touristy.

It took us awhile to find the place but Zeppos was really fantastic. We had fries with three different sauces and my entree was something with shrimp that was great.

The place had a bar that looked like an after work drink spot. It was a great way to end the trip.

Here are more of Bob’s adventures after I left. Even if you don’t have time to read, there are great photos:

Haarlem Highlights.

Some dork Atomium thing

Clare and the Reasons

A Few More Haarlem Notes.

Here I’m standing on the bed and leaning against the window being unhelpful as Bob looks at a map and tries to figure out the plan. At this point I’d learned enough about the controls to make shower pod and toilet pod lighting green.

Before I do my post about our tiny hotel room I need to add something that I meant to put in yesterday’s post.

Yesterday when co-worker returned from the coffee shop he told me that the barista had randomly asked him if he liked Ratt. “You know, the heavy metal band.”

Co-worker indicated that he did not and the barista expressed great enthusiasm for this band.

I’ve been to this coffee shop a number of times and I possibly could have given birth to this barista yet I am impressed at his wide-ranging knowledge of 80’s music.

“I have Ratt’s greatest hits,” I told co-worker. “I can loan it to you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, all grumpy and ungrateful.

“And you know what?” I added. “Last night my pajama shirt was my Ratt New Year’s Eve concert t-shirt from 1985.”

He didn’t even have a response for that.

This is the hotel closet meaning just a rack with two hangers.

This is the toilet pod. You pull those two “doors” around until they meet in the middle and hope your knees don’t bump. Nothing private in here. You can kinda see the sink at the right.

Here I’m standing with my back against the door. You can see the TV above the bed and the tiny shelf on the left wall. The shower was pretty cool. The toilet “doors” are frosted but not the shower. That round thing up in the center is the showerhead. There’s also a handheld sprayer. They provide two kinds of soap: daytime and nighttime. I preferred day. Bob used a blend.

I stupidly didn’t get any photos of the downstairs area with the bar and couches and work areas.

One night I sat downstairs and had a beer and wrote in my travel notebook which I did an overall crap job of keeping up with. There was another man working and he asked to use my pen.

When he returned it he commented on how old fashioned it was to be using a pen and paper.

ARGH! We live in a world where pen and paper is considered old fashioned.

The Hamburg UBahn system map at best station name ever Straßburger Straße

Bob didn’t finish his EMusic downloads so he left me 19. I downloaded the Journey Escape album. I’m going to learn how to burn it to a CD and listen to it in my car and drive around for hours, just like when I was 17. I can’t wait.

I also downloaded Ca Plane Pour Moi. No collection is complete without that song.

Bob is home. My souvenir cough has now moved into its last dastardly phase where I just have endless dry hacks that veer close to gagging. I’ll be happy to be done with this.

This weekend I need to finish Game of Thrones. Only 75 pages left. And I have 6 more Gilmore Girls Season 4. And a story to finish.

That’s it: 1 cough, 1 book, 1 TV series and a story.

Wish me luck.

Amsterdam flower market

Tonight when I drove home I could see all kinds of tulips in the neighborhood. Even my next door neighbor has tulips.

None of my tulips have bloomed yet.

It seems like everything in my yard is always two weeks behind the neighbors. It’s not fair.

We found the Amsterdam flower market by accident and I was completely overcome.

I ran up to a giant bulb display and hugged it and told Bob: I want all of this.

I know, he said.

They had bulbs you could buy that were approved for the US but I was traveling with the world’s smallest bag and I would have had to carry the bulbs around with me for the rest of the day.

It was a tough choice but I passed. It looked like all the same stuff in the local catalog and I think all that stuff comes from Netherlands anyway.

Next year I’m buying a ton more tulips.

Davidwache police station on the Reeperbahn.. It was nice to finally be running around Hamburg on our own so we could look at all the stuff we wanted. My Dad’s family lived in this police station a long time ago.

I should be more organized about the way I’m doing this to avoid repeating myself later but I can’t get it together quite yet.

My Sweetheart has checked in and as far as I can tell he’s averaged about 4 museums a day plus churches, exhibits, government offices and a concert one evening.

I have a picture of him when he was a tiny baby and he’s holding his head up with his eyes wide open looking around. He came out of the womb not wanting to miss anything and he hasn’t changed.

The things that attract you to your partner are the same things that drive you nuts about them. I’m glad he’s getting to see all this stuff and I’m glad I’m not being dragged around with him.

For my ideal vacation I don’t mind a museum or two but then I like to sit around and relax. He thinks sitting around is boring. Even when we were in Reno he managed to find a museum.

He’ll be home on Thursday.