The Next Time You Complain About Your HMO...

...put a sock in it and be thankful you're not seeking medical attention in a  developing country.

As many of you have read in the previous post I recently competed in a World Cup event and was defeated by a stronger and more experienced "Team Lowenbrau." After 6 days of tenderness (and doing aerobics on it, hosting a party on my feet all night and riding 20 miles on a mountain bike) I decided to see a doc about my ankle.

After the usual touching, pressing, "press against my hand, now pull against my hand" exam he diagnosed a painful but essentially harmless bone bruise. He said that, "while most people would have stayed off their feet for a couple days after an injury like this, Seth and I don't appear to be very normal when it comes to self imposed inactivity." So he gave me strict order to stay off it for 1 week and go get an X-ray done just to be sure.

If I'm nothing else, I am a good patient and when a doc says to do something, I don't argue. He gave me the directions to a diagnostic facility in Tbilisi that could do the X-ray. I found the building on the main drag in town. I walked into a reception area with one man whose arm was in a sling and what appeared to be his father, his wife and his father's friend who all seemed to be sitting apart from him and taking turns making fun of the injured guy.

There was no one behind the reception desk. After sitting patiently like a good little Westerner waiting to be served and watching patient after patient walk in the front door and just go right on back into the hospital I said, to heck with it and walked back myself. Imagine going to see your doctor, finding no one sitting at reception and just saying, "Aw heck." and walk into the back past all the nurses and just busting right in on him in an exam room. that's essentially what I did and the hilarious part is that no one even blinked. 

After I asked for someone who spoke English a man called for a woman who would end up being my X-ray technician. She led me back to a dimly lit room which, at first glance appeared to be some sort of storage area for old medical equipment. There were stacks of machines with exposed, multi colored wires and what appeared to be half of an MRI machine in the middle of the small room. She cleared off a low chaise lounge and motioned for me to sit. She then went into an adjacent room and dragged out the X-ray machine. This is where my X-ray tech turned into Jerry Lewis and proceeded to repeatedly step on the machine's electrical cord which was dragging behind her, causing the machine to come to a dead stop and her to stumble backward almost falling over in her 3 inch heels. 

Once she managed to squeeze the X-ray machine between my couch and the half of an MRI machine and free her skirt which was wedged between the two pieces of equipment, she set about arranging my foot on the plate for the X-ray. now, why is it that X-ray techs always manhandle the body part that you are getting a picture taken of? You've got to know that the only reason I'm here is because this thing might be broken, which at the very least means significant discomfort and may possibly be rather painful. Knowing this, they always seem to need you to turn it in the exact manner that causes the most pain and when you can't perform this task to their satisfaction they graciously offer to assist you by cranking it around to the position they want.

After 2 pictures she tells me to lace up (at least, I think that's what she said. It was either than or, "Go to hell." The body language could have gone either way.) She enters my information into a computer that is balancing, I'm not kidding, on an 8 inch stack of papers. She puts my film into an envelope and says, "You must pay cash." All righty then.

I'm led further down the hall to another office where a woman gestures to another couch covered in stacks of papers and scrap metal and instructs me to "Sit." I'm sorry, where exactly should I"...aw heck, I pick up a stack of paper and put it in my lap. She writes something in a ledger book, looks at me through thick glasses and says, "20 Lari." Folks, this is about $15.

All jokes aside, once I aggressively pushed my way in to this facility I was seen immediately and got a pair of X-rays for the cost of lunch at Applebee's. As long as you don't leave home without your sense of humor and you don't have any major medical melt down, you really can't complain.

Move Over Cold Compress, There's a New Game in Town

I got home from a grocery store run yesterday for beer & food for Seth's birthday party on Friday. When I parked the car and opened the back door out came rolling one of those little kegs of beer that holds 5 liters that had fallen over on the ride home and what did I do?

I tried to catch it with the inside of my right ankle like a hacky sack! Right on the ankle bone! What the hell was I thinking????

I immediately dropped to the ground and simultaneously felt like I was going to puke and pass out. This woman was walking with her baby in a stroller and she came running over. Although we couldn't speak the same language, she was rubbing my back while I got control of my breathing and she helped me stand up.

I limped over to our door and she helped me carry 2 bags of groceries that had the frozen veggies etc. I then looked up at the 52 stairs I have to climb to get to the front door from our alley. My first instinct was to call Seth but I thought, "What is he going to do? I'll call when I get inside." So I carried up the groceries limping on my right foot and by the time I reached the top thought I was going to pass out again.

I got inside, put the stuff in the freezer, grabbed the ice pack and laid down on the couch and called Seth. He told me to stand up and put all my weight on my right foot to test and see if it was broken. I could stand on one foot so we were hopeful that it wasn't broken. I spent the next 4 hours lying with my foot elevated, alternating 20 minutes of ice on and 20 minutes off. I took 4 ibuprofen and prayed it wasn't broken because I did not want to fly with a cast and get married in a cast!

All because I couldn't just let the keg fall! I

Apparently my diligence as a patient paid off and I woke up this morning feeling tender to the touch but much better over all. I am able to walk around with little to no discomfort. I came in to work this morning and relayed this story to Alan, who gave me another gem of advice:

The next time something like this happens, I am to immediately go to the liquor cabinet and pull out a bottle of vodka. Pour the vodka over the injured area and rub into the skin gently. Repeat this procedure every 30 minutes until the pain disappears. (I imagine it wouldn't hurt if I accidentally spilled some of it into my mouth every once in awhile either.)

Silly American. Why would you want RICE when you can have vodka?

Your friend,
Pele

Chapel Climb

Seth and I have been "training" for our honeymoon in Glacier National Park by going out for long hikes with loaded packs on the weekend. These hikes have taken us to some pretty amazing spots.

Behind me in this photo is a small chapel that is part of a larger monastery complex in the hills outside Mtskheta (the historic capital of Georgia located about 30 minutes from Tbilisi). Unfortunately we couldn't enter the monastery because I was inappropriately dressed (shorts, no sleeves and no head cover.)

But we were able to climb up to this small chapel and have a look around.

The photo on the right is of the inside of the chapel looking up toward the dome over the altar. This ancient chapel is still used today and there was a small table set out with a prayer book and a jar for offerings.

Below is the view from the chapel.

Rubber Side Down?

... I KNEW I was forgetting something today when I went for a bike ride. It was a hot one on Sunday and I had already been riding with a buddy for an hour or so. But he took off and I decided I'd go for another 30 minutes to get a final burn in.

I rode up this hill to go check out a circuit I've been thinking of proposing holding a small crit style race on. The course has a solid uphill portion where you can get the HR up, but it's not too bad, then drops down into a long gradual descent. I softened up the suspension about as far as it would go as I came over the final rise and just let her go. I was having a blast flying down the trail when the trail had a bend to the right. It was a pretty smooth trail though covered in loose top soil. I probably entered the bend at about 35 mph.

I exited significantly slower, and was 0 mph for a while.



I managed to earn my first case of solid road rash, ironically, not on the road. A nice 4x4 patch on my right hip, a snapped front brake lever after the bars spun 360 degrees, and the bars were pushed waaay off center. A fun 5 minute cruise to the car (thankfully the bike was rideable and I was ok other than a slight stun) and I'm on way home with a kit that's got a few holes and blood starting to soak through.

Shower, gauze, tape and I think I'm patched up. We'll see what tomorrow morning is like.

The yard gets mowed for the first time

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Originally uploaded by SethTri

I'm certain I've mentioned a few times that we've been working on the backyard quite a bit. Well the mudpit was seeded about a month ago and we've been watering it every night since then. And VOILA! We have grass that needs mowing. It's not a lot of grass (about 6 swipes with the mower) but it's thick and green!

The yard is definitely more weed free than it used to be, but there are signs that we need to work to keep on top of that. Chickweed and a few other miscreants have poked up from time to time. For now, we've got to pick 'em out by hand, but in another 2 mowings, I bought some weed & feed to do the job.






We used weed & feed on the front yard and have been AMAZED at the lack of weeds. There used to be lots of little annoying plants coming up, but no more! Good stuff.




Overall, the seeding adventure is coming to a close (which is nice) and it was successful. There's no way we'd do this ourselves on a larger area though. Soon, it'll be time to setup barbeques on the yard. Just in time for summer.

Advice by Alan

I've decided to add a recurring feature to our blog, Advice by Alan.

Alan is the security guard at my office. He speaks little English but that hasn't kept us from becoming friends. We communicate with a mixture of the English he knows, the little Georgian and Russian that I know, a healthy dose of charades and a bit of Pictionary. Each morning I can count on a walk-in from Alan. He pops into my office, we exchange "Good mornings" and "How are yous" in Georgian (which is closing in on the extent of my knowledge of the language) and he quickly launches into a one sided conversation in a mixture of Russian and Georgian.

During our "conversations" my eyes work harder than my ears. I am constantly watching his facial expression and his hands as he expresses his story. Alan's stories often evolve into advice giving sessions. Alan's advice ranges from cancer prevention to the best accompaniments for vodka. From how to make your plants grow to the uses of the common house cat in curing your bodily aches and pains.  I realized that I have been selfishly keeping his advice to myself, but that stops today.

Advice by Alan #1: Mobile phone antennae cause cancer

Recently Alan came into my office to chat when he noticed my cell phone sitting on my desk. He pointed to the phone and shook his head. "Your phone, wery old," he said. (This would be the phone I bought before we moved to T'bilisi in August 2007) He continued by pointing at the antenna of my phone and then gesturing at the side of his stomach, his hands slowly moving away from his body. I shook my head indicating that I didn't quite follow.

He went on to tell me a story about the time he and a friend were drinking vodka one night. Judging by the way he was moving his hand to his lips and repeatedly tilting his head back I'm going to say they were doing shots of vodka. All of a sudden his friend grabbed his heart in pain and told Alan that his chest hurt. At that moment Alan realized that his friend was carrying his cell phone in the front pocket of his shirt. Alan removed it and the pain subsided. Alan looked down and noticed that his friend's cell phone had an external antenna. Proof positive that "cell phones with external antennas cause cancer."

I asked Alan if it was possible that perhaps the nights of vodka shots played a role in his friends chest pains. He assured me that this was, in fact, ludicrous. So, for all of you out there with old cell phones that have external antenna, take it from Alan, it's time to upgrade. As long as your antenna is internal, your safe!

A Cyclocross Bike is not a Mountain Bike

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Originally uploaded by SethTri

... but it's close. There has been a TDYer here who actually brought a mountain bike with him for the last month or so and I was easily convinced to get out on a ride with him. I managed to put the knobbies on the cyclocross bike that for far too long has sat on the trainer and ride with him 3 times now.
For those who aren't aware: a cyclocross bike is effectively a road frame (toughened up a bit) with wider, but certainly not wide knobby tires. There is no suspension like a mountain bike has, the tires are significantly narrower than mtn bikes, and I don't have mountain bike pedals (yet) on it.


I've been out 3 times now with him and the first 2 times I was doing pretty awesome. Despite the much harder gearing I'm running than the mountain bikers, I've made it up almost all the stuff 2 guys out here could get up. Going down is a little sketchier though -- it's much more of a technique challenge that I can't transfer from road riding, and since I have no suspension, every rock puts me in the air. But I've made it down most of the stuff, though usually significantly slower and conservative than the downhill mountain bikers.


Now for the fun part:


We've been riding the same areas that Meg & I have been running for quite a while. I can see the Embassy from the ridgeline, and I've long thought it might be possible to make the traverse over. (Though it looks like it's at least 5 miles.) So, on Saturday, three of us attempted the ride.


Boys and Girls, learn from my mistakes: A cyclocross bike is NOT a mountain bike.


So we got our normal ride in, and that worked out pretty good. Then we headed up to the saddle that has a road coming off it that leads down into the valley we wanted to go. Ohhh... it seemed like such a good idea at the time, and it looked like I could have used it to commute to work eventually.




Not quite. It starts out a pretty steep downhill, big loose rocks filled in with scree and a big rut that wanders all over this "jeep trail", that even a Jeep would be very challenged to get up. And then it got steeper, and sketchier. I was pretty gripped and eventually kicked out of the pedals and kinda shuffled down. It got rideable again, and we continued down, but then the road disappeared into a washed out thin trail. Well down we go (and out of my road pedals again).


And then the trail ran into a foot deep creek with big rocks on the bottom. This bike would have had a tough time with the creek bed WITHOUT water in it. Ok, so I'm walking it, but now I'm trying to walk across this creek with my road shoes and cleats on. Yeah, that won't work, so off come the socks and shoes as I walk through water that smells a bit like manure. (At least there probably aren't any other chemicals in here.)




But once across the creek, we were on a dirt road (a real dirt road!) and worked our way through dilapidated buildings of the lower-middle class parts of Tbilisi. A few dead ends later we popped out on the streets of diplomatic heights and Meg came by and rescued us from having to return by either the same route or by the very busy roads of downtown Tbilisi.


Alright, so maybe I'll consider getting a suspension on the bike. Maybe. We'll see.