Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Medical Experiences in France

I'm about to write a post that makes me a little uncomfortable -- one because it reveals some private information and two because it includes nudity.
Then why am I writing it?
I think back to myself, living in the U.S. and reading all the blogs I could about life in France so I would be prepared.
I learned all kinds of things on those blogs, like the fact that I would need to exchange my driver's license the first year I was in France or else I would have to attend driving school and spend thousands of dollars to get a French driver's license.
I heard the horrors of going to French doctors and being told to strip down without a gown in sight.
I gleaned a lot of knowledge that I now get to apply while living in France.



When I walked out of the hospital this afternoon into a gloriously sunny afternoon, I knew I would need to write about my experience so that others could learn from it.
The walk from the hospital down to home include a view of some poppies
During my sojourn in the States, I began to feel an uncomfortable tugging along my right ribs, under my breast.
I'd had a mammogram in September, so I didn't worry about it too much, but the feeling continued.
We don't have health insurance in the U.S. this year, so going to the doctor wasn't an option for me. I figured I would have it checked when I returned to France.
But I hadn't been in France long before Covid-19 hit and we went into lockdown. The pharmacy would give us meds without a prescription as long as we didn't bother the doctors who were busy fighting on the front lines of Coronavirus. Even in our small town, dozens of people had it.
Luckily, none of us showed symptoms of the virus so we had no need to call the doctor and bother her.
As things have loosened up, I called the doctor last week and made an appointment for two days later.
Our doctor, unlike the ones I have read about who ask patient to disrobe, rarely even touches us to look in our throats, listen to our hearts. She frequently writes out a prescription and sends us on our way.
This time, of course, she did tell me to remove my shirt (and bra, if I was wearing one, but I wasn't).
I sat on the examining table. It is an upright chair instead of a table. So she pulled her stool up and checked my breasts and honed in on the place under my breasts where the soreness persisted.
She assured me she thought it was nothing, just that I had perhaps injured myself and the nerves were continue to react.
She gave me a prescription for Vitamin B and for a chest x-ray just to be sure.
What a relief, I congratulated myself as I returned home from the doctor and prepared to forget about the uncomfortable tugging sensation under my ribs.
But after a week, I decided to call the hospital to make an appointment for an x-ray. Calling is always a challenge because I have to speak French. I always preface every conversation by apologizing for my French. English speaks will always say I speak good French, but that's only because I know more than many of them do. It sounds impressive if you don't understand it.
The woman set up an appointment the next day at 16h 30. That's 4:30 in American time. I repeat the time over and over to make sure I get it right. At the end of the phone call, the woman said: "Come .. and wear a mask."
What? I asked. I wanted her to repeat that part that I hadn't understood. It sounded like cellar.
She repeated all, of course, and the word that I had to pick out was "seule" -- alone.
"Come alone and wear a mask."
It sounded much more exciting than it would be.
My homemade mask and my x-rays
Grace and I went for a walk that afternoon (part of our allowed hour of exercise everyday) and we walked up by the hospital so I would know where to go the next day.
I'd never been to the hospital in our town, but I'd seen the sign so I knew the direction.
Then today, I walked the road again -- seule. It's only a few kilometers each direction.
I followed the signs to "radiologie." I walked into the waiting room and murmured "Bonjour" to the other waiting patients, who responded in kind. Just because we have to wear masks doesn't mean we've thrown out all the French niceties.
I waited several minutes for a receptionist to come from the back office to take my x-ray order. She asked for my carte vitale, the card that shows French health insurance, and I told her I would pay for it myself because I don't yet have a carte vitale.
I'm sure everyone in the room was scandalized. To them, the cost of medical procedures are outrageous, but they haven't lived in the States.
To visit the doctor in France without insurance, it costs me 25 Euro. I didn't know what the x-ray would cost, but I had a friend who paid 35 Euros for an MRI. A quick web search tells me that an x-ray in the States, without insurance, costs $100-$1000.
As I sat reading a book on my Kindle, in spite of the "No cell phone" rule in the salle d'attente (waiting room) I noticed that the other patients would be called out then come back. In a few minutes, the receptionist would come forward and hand them an envelope before they left.
That's right, the next step was for them to give patients the x-rays and patients are responsible for taking them to the doctor, or holding onto them for future medical needs. There's no such thing as a permanent medical chart where all of my information is collected. As a matter of fact, when I was at the doctor and I asked her to refill my prescription, she asked me what it was because they had changed systems on their computers and she didn't have my information anymore.
I was the last person in the room when the x-ray technician called my name, and I followed the bald man in green scrubs into the x-ray room.
He motioned to a side room and indicated that I should strip from the waist up. The word I recognized "nue." I walked into the room, smaller than most closets and saw two round knobs where clothes could be hung. I reached to close the door behind me and realized there was no door knobs. Apparently, I would not be closing the door to disrobe.
I shrugged off my sweater and then pulled my dress over my head.
Nude from the waist up, I walked back into the room.
The tech indicated that I should step onto a platform, facing a wall and push my chest against it. He indicated I should put my hands on my hips. Then he told me to hold still and moved cameras around. The platform shook causing me to rock back and forth and wondering how he would get a clear picture. Then when everything had come to a standstill, he told me not to breathe.
He had me turn several different ways, lifting my hands in the air. He told me to blow the air out of my lungs "soufflez," yes, like a cheese souffle.
And then, he said we were finished and I returned to the open-door closet to put my clothes on.
I went back to the waiting room and in a very short time, my name was called.
Too personal? A view as I lean forward against a wall and get an xray taken. 
I received my envelope with the x-rays. I paid 52 euros with my credit card, the full price for an x-ray.
I asked the woman what to do with the x-rays. She said I should make an appointment with the doctor and take them with me.
Are you kidding? That will be another 25 euros! That will bring the total of my medical misadventure to just over 100 euros.
When I looked at the x-rays and the results, I noticed that someone had read the x-rays and written at the bottom "Absence de..." several times. They didn't find anything on my x-rays. Which is fine.
It's good to know that if I have a medical problem I can get it checked out without fear of bankruptcy.
But don't worry, Earl and I are in the process of sending in our information so we can get our carte vitale. The cost for that will be about 8% of our yearly income, not counting retirement income.
What a relief it will be to know that we have low prices and insurance.

Monday, April 27, 2020

Book Cover Reveal

I'm excited to share with you a new book cover for The Summer of France, my very first published novel.
Without further fanfare:


Why, you may ask, a new book cover for The Summer of France?
Because The Summer of France is now book 1 in the series A New Life in Provence.
That's right, the 2nd book, Falling for Provence, is coming soon.
And I'll share that book cover when I have more details.
A shout out to my fabulous book designer Janna Thompson-Chordas.
When I was searching for someone to create covers, I thought about going with a designer far away in India or Pakistan, but then I thought to ask around my town in Ohio and found Janna. She designs covers for OSU publishing so you know she's a pro.
You, my readers, all have always been so supportive of my writing and I really appreciate it. I wonder if you'll be able to see differences in my writing now that I am living in France.
I'll tell you one change that I had to make as I was writing Falling for Provence. I had Fia, the main character, listening to Pandora music on her phone.
Guess what? You can't get Pandora in Europe. Good thing I moved here to learn that little tidbit.
If you are interested in learning more about when my next novel will be released, please leave your email in the comments or send me an email at paulita@paulitakincer.com and I'll begun compiling an email list.
That way, you won't miss it when book 2 of A New Life in Provence is released.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Moody Mountains

Our town is surrounded by mountains. They look like gentle hills in some places (unless you try to climb them) and they appear to be craggy mountains in another direction.
The sun on rocky mountain crags
So many times, my run is interrupted by the need to halt and take a picture. I wonder if other people think I'm a tourist. Maybe I still am.
Low-lying clouds
I went for a walk with Grace one afternoon and she asked the clouds if they were tired, resting on the mountains so.
This is a view I often take as I run across a bridge. 

The same view on a sunnier day

And here's a snapshot of the bridge where I stop to take the picture. 




A sunrise through the mountains

Every morning, when I leave the house to run or walk, I'm always startled by the beauty. Around every corner might be another beautiful vista that makes me slow to a walk and snap a picture.
I'll be perusing my pictures the next few days as we have rain, including a flood warning for tomorrow morning, but I hope I'll be out running again, searching for landscapes that move me, even if they are mountains.

Wednesday, April 08, 2020

France Quarantine Continues

In many ways, the rules have gotten stricter here in France. We're only allowed to leave the house once a day. We have to take a paper that says we are going to buy groceries or medicine or to help someone who can't go themselves. But the main reason I leave my house is to exercise each day, usually a run, but sometimes a walk.
We are supposed to stay within 1 kilometer of our homes. I roughly try to comply with that.
 I'm allowed to walk with people who live in my house, but no one else.
I try to take a picture on every walk or run to share with my running friends
It's been nearly a month since we raced over the border to Barcelona to pick up Grace and Jack. Even then we were social distancing and the next morning they closed all the bars and restaurants.
I've been to the bakery a few times 
I got breakfast and lunch at the bakery on one trip. 
and the grocery store twice.
The local grocery set up a series of barricades where people can wait until it is there turn to get in the store.
The stores limit the number of people who can go in, so sometimes the longest wait is outside before you can get in.

I've talked to friends from our balcony and over fences.
I'm not sure if Grace and Jack feel lucky to be stuck here, but I'm really glad they are. We have four hands for euchre. And just last week I received a mahjong set, so we can play three or four-handed mahjong.
I used to play mahjong with my homeschool mom friends so it brings back lots of good memories.
Earl apparently never played back in the day, but he is being a good sport and learning the game. 
What else are we doing to pass the time? Well, as soon as the quarantine started, I caved and we ordered a television.

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We rarely watch television in France so I had argued that we didn't need one; we could simply watch shows on the computer during cold winter nights that we weren't out with our friends drinking wine, dancing, telling stories.
But realizing that the four of us were going to be inside, except for an hour per day of exercise, I immediately went on Amazon and ordered this 43-inch television. It isn't a show stopper, but gives us something to do on nights when we aren't playing cards or mahjong.
Our dinners have drifted later, usually starting around 8 p.m., so there isn't a lot of time afterward to watch TV.
We have scavenged a few plants for our garden.
We should have enhanced the soil first with alpaca dung from our friend with alpacas
My life remains much the same. Working most days teaching English to Chinese kids. The hours are longer because they aren't in school so can take classes anytime of day. I'm scheduling two days off every week from teaching. I considered continuing to teach everyday since we're quarantined, but I realized that I need a few days where I can go for a leisurely walk and not rush to shower and get dressed, a day where I can linger at the breakfast table over coffee. So I'm allowing myself those days off.
 I'm also teaching an online university class and am lucky enough that another one starts in May. I take two days off from being online for my class, but unfortunately they aren't the same days that I don't teach the Chinese children. The only day that I don't work at all is today, Wednesday. And it feels like a bit of a vacation.
I know I'm fortunate to still be able to work, so I won't complain about it.
A few restaurants are open these days for take out, so that is a nice break from someone cooking for 21 days straight. We had galettes last Friday -- those are savory crepes, with a delicious bottle of hard cider.
Maybe we'll try the Vietnamese restaurant next or the pizzeria so Grace and Jack can experience some local eateries.

We have also committed to getting a kitten.
Nougaro, who we are currently planning to call Nougat, will be ready for adoption in mid-May. Grace has been having withdrawal since she can't have her cats brought over. We've always had cats so decided it might be a good time to get one. He comes from a local animal rescue organization.

That's our life in quarantine. We'll continue to take walks and look at beautiful scenery. Hope you're all being safe and stay healthy.


Mountains through an arch

House Work

 We're creeping along on improving the house. Some of the work that has to be done isn't really visible, not as visible as repaintin...