Backward

I hunted on the internet today, fruitlessly, for information about where MedX machines can be found in Europe.

The machine I have in mind was recommended in Bonn for me, to strengthen my lower back muscles. I think it would also be ideal for Clive.

I phoned a contact we have at the White Cross (Croce Bianca), a voluntary ambulance service which has transported Clive to Germany 3 times now for treatment under the E112.

He’d never heard of a MedX machine and seemed very doubtful about finding one anywhere.

Which basically means that the only help around here for an ailing back is a corset provided by the Orthopedic Centre.

My 'bespoke' corset

Mine is made-to-measure which means it’s not too long or too short, and not too far round or too little round. It doesn’t reflect the direction of the curvature of my spine, and in fact would be exactly the same if the curvature were reversed.

I showed it to the spinal surgeon in Bonn calling it ‘the Italian solution’. He said it was of no benefit whatsoever.

Day 8 – To Mulhouse

After a late start necessitated by the surgeon not having arrived at the promised 9th hour, we hurried away from Bonn without Damaris having had a chance to visit the nearby Mosel valley which would have been a pleasant but ‘time-vampirish’ distraction.

The long drive up through France had taught us a stern message – the quiet autoroutes of years gone by no longer exist, not even on a ‘dimanche’. As a result, we drove fast and furiously southbound along the German autobahns, passing Koblenz, Frankfurt, Karlsruhe, Strasbourg and Freiburg on our way to the bridge over the Rhine leading to Mulhouse which sits on the borders of France, Germany and Switzerland.

Mulhouse Campanile bathroom

We arrived just after 4 pm, paid a visit to Colonel Sanders who lives next door and hunkered down for the night ready for an early start around 4 am tomorrow.

We were both intrigued by the time-capsule style of the bathroom. Clive said he expected to be ‘beamed up’ at any moment.

The intention is to drive through Switzerland, and down through Italy in time to collect our dogs tomorrow evening – something which means turning out after having unpacked the car and fixed the dog-guard back in place.

Day 4 – Examinations And Preparation

A room without a view

Things were very intensive today in the Betaklinik Hospital in Bonn. There was hardly a moment’s peace between MRI scan, CT scan, visits from the surgeon, the deputy (?) surgeon and the anaesthetist, and various frustrated visits by the cleaner who only got in on the third attempt.

Clive suffered extreme pain lying on his back for both the scans, but had a surprisingly pleasant time in the masculine environment of the operating theatre when they made sure he could sustain a prone position for the actual operation which will take place tomorrow.

We had been slightly disconcerted to realise, first thing, that the surgeon and anaesthetist hadn’t spoken to each other and agreed upon whether Clive would have a local or a general anaesthetic. Anyway, the anaesthetist ‘won’ and Clive will remain conscious throughout.

It seems there is little life-risk involved in the operation, but whether the actual outcome will be what we hoped for, i.e. removal or lessening of the back pain Clive has lived with for nearly 20 years, is by no means certain.

Day 3 – To Bonn

Don’t we know it?

A whole day without the need to dip into our rapidly-shrinking travel purse for toll fees! That said, the journey was not the most pleasant. We didn’t have the ‘Nacht’ but we did have plenty of ‘Nebel’ (German for ‘fog’) and it ran just about the length of the Mosel valley.

As soon as we got out of that, the autobahn abruptly disappeared and we were summarily despatched onto country lanes which had Damaris staring longingly at the many Bäckereien scattered throughout the many small villages with their half-timbered and steep-roofed houses.

We were doing fine until we actually got to Bonn. The SatNav did the usual trick of mixing up exit and entrance roads, leaving us with instructions like we must take a right turn that wasn’t there and then, when it finally realised it had ventured too far up a certain creek, confidently instructing us to go back up the motorway which we had just come down. Arrggh!!!

Anyway, we over-rode it and finally found the Betaklinik hospital – hidden away between assorted other anonymous buildings. Parking outside was an official no-no and we were told to park in the underground car park. An activity which required us to take a ticket.

Beneath the ground, the car park opened up with each above-ground building having its own specified area. We drove around, in pain, and absolutely knackered, trying to find somewhere near enough to a lift so that Clive could use it to get to the right building, of course (just as if we needed a further complication).

We eventually found the car park associated with the hotel but it had another barrier across – one which required a license to enter. On asking a nearby attendant, he abruptly said he had no idea just that it was necessary to ‘bezahlen’ (pay). We were so tired that we decided to drive back up the ramp to ask what to do. Of course, the gate was down and there was no way it would come up without ‘bezahlen’. We weren’t prepared to pay (given that we’d been down there for under 5 minutes trying to park and couldn’t). A queue started to build up so we pressed for service.

This event brought us into contact with the less than delightful Laurens who proceeded to berate us at breakneck German grumbling about us and the chaos we were causing and what did we expect and no he wouldn’t open the gate. Clive shouted at him and demanded to know his name and Damaris ran back into reception to get help.

The upshot was that the receptionist (apparently suffering from hypothermia in the 4C breeze) sorted it out but Laurens had come along, too. He then shouted that Clive’s German was not good (despite him not speaking a word of English himself). Clive told him that he was unbelievably rude and could have the honour of reading his name on the internet. He thought both that and the fact that Clive couldn’t walk far hilariously funny and strolled off chuckling to Clive’s shouting that he was ignorant and needed to return to school.

The hospital room has what is needed but no more. It is sterile but complete. The most ‘entertaining’ occurrence was Damaris trying to use our safe and then it swallowing all of our money and refusing us access to it. One of the many factota sorted that out, too.

So, here we sit, listening to music on our Ipod and preparing for bed. They took blood from Clive, threatened him with no operation and then an operation without full anaesthetic (just local) and finally agreed on how we’d discuss it all tomorrow.

Tuesday promises tests, an MRI and CT scan, and fraught conversations about anaesthetism.

Happy days.

Day 2 – To Nancy

Starring Yours Truly and her sidekick

This could equally have been named ‘For a Fistful of Dollars’ as it certainly felt that way with the tolls mounting to over 100 Euros for just today. Top of the list was the Fréjus Tunnel where we dithered over buying a ‘saver’ 7-day ticket which would have knocked 20 Euros off the princely 74 Euros (2 x single) price. The problem would have been making sure that we scraped back to the tunnel on the last day possible. Too many snags was the decided outcome.

The day was long – very, very, very long. We drove getting on for 800 km and it took us all day. This was not helped by the poor signing of the Nancy Campanile and also the sheer volume of traffic on French roads – roads that are normally very quiet, especially on a Sunday.

When we got to the Campanile, we asked about grub and were told that the restaurant was closed between Friday and Sunday and we would have to get back in the car and drive ‘5 minutes’ to a grill that we promptly could not find (although having found it by chance earlier while searching for the hotel). In the end, we found a burger bar virtually in the grounds of our chosen hotel. Why weren’t we directed there?

Anyway, we’ve now eaten, checked our emails on the incredibly slow WiFi in the room and are preparing to retire.

Tomorrow we leave for Luxembourg and then the Mosel valley to Koblenz and Bonn where we have to arrive by4pm.It’s a short journey – just about 350 km!

Wir sind jetzt ganz Reisekrank!