Atentie! Imagini mult prea minunate
Atentie! Imagini mult prea minunate
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If you want ice-cream, meaning real Gelato Italiano, you must go near the Commerce Registry in Bucharest, on the Unirii Bld, near Trattoria “Il Mulino”.
I tasted the best ice-cream ever there, last night, even though there were few aromas left. I definitely recommend “smurf” flavour and stracciatella.
Some songs remind you of better times, don’t they? Yeah, that “music moves your heart” saying is actually true (also according to Oxford scientists and some other really, really smart guys http://brain.oxfordjournals.org/content/129/10/2528.full ).
“a primary function of music is collective and communal, to bring and bind people together” just like we were in Fratelli in Bucharest (one of the greatest clubs in town), when I first heard this Ed Sheeran song. We were so many, some of us were really drunk (some of us were drivers – only me as I recall more clearly). Anyhow, all of us were jumping altogether to this song and were “demanded” to sing. We sung!
This Ed Sheeran guy was rudely asking us to do a bunch of stuff: singing, jumping, feeling HAPPY, and I remember nobody minding, everyone was doing accordingly.
There’s nothing like appreciating life after a “life threatening situation”. No, I can’t say it “I almost died”, but I was in a hospital recently. In a Public Romanian hospital firstly, and in a private hospital, secondly.
When I woke up in that pretty June morning I realized that something was wrong with me, I was all swollen and my body was 100 degrees hot (not in a sexy way) so I went to the emergency room quickly.
The last time I ended up in the emergency room of a Romanian Public Hospital was almost 5 years ago when I cut my wrist in a glass (no attempt of suicide although it seemed like it). Blood was running so fast I could not see the wound, although for the moment I did not realize it, I could have remained invalid of one hand – my tendon was just an inch from being cut.
Well, I “survived” that one with the help of – as I recall from 5 years ago – almost 4 interns, or 3 interns and a doctor, that were in the emergency room at that moment – one laying me down on bed, another cleaning my wound, another making fun of me for attempting “suicide” and another running around getting needles and stuff to stitch the wound. They were amazingly efficient.
This time, 5 years after, only suffering from an “allergy” that transformed me into a monster, I had to firstly wait 15 minutes in the emergency waiting room. That was OK for me, there were maybe more severe cases there: I saw 2 young folks drug or alcohol intoxicated, some old people maybe suffering from hearth disease, etc.
At first I did not see it but the emergency room was looking way different: dirty curtains separated the tiny one bed-ed observation booth, the woman that led me tot my booth told me to sit on the dirty bed that had no paper-sheet on it: when I asked the nurse if the equipment is sterilized she said, very affected, that they use a special spray for this (as there were no paper-sheet, I abstained from asking if they had that sterilizing spray).
Moving on, the doctor that observed me asked about my period, my allergies to medication, etc. Never has she asked me about serious illness (I gladly don’t have any but I was expecting that to be in their routine, I don’t recall a woman’s period to be such an important fact?) – she laughed at me when I was checking my Period-Monitoring smart application – she could have just asked me if I am pregnant or something, I could have quickly said “well, do you see any wedding ring on my finger, woman?” or “if I recall, making kids implies intercourse, no need to check any application: the answer is NOT APPLICABLE for me”.
After this charade, I was sitting on my bed – which was finally covered in paper-sheets after I was sitting for most of the consultation – for an hour or so after the nurse came back: I asked “sorry, should I wait any longer?”. In that moment, she passed me my emergency filled out sheet and sent me to the “treatment room”: another case of “dirty booths filled with dirty sick people”- mainly homeless or very old people. This image made me even more sick.
I tried to get some info from that lady there but she asked me – again, affected, I guess this is according to the education they receive in the Nurse School nowadays – to wait. I asked here what treatment do I get: shot, perfusion, etc. She did not tell me. All was so mysterious that I started to be ashamed that I am in the emergency room and very scared. Finally, she comes with a perfusion of something and expects me to just sit – on the dirty bed – while she provides the treatment. At that moment I just ran out of the hospitable with the doctor and nurse after me.
In these moments you just have feelings: mine was to “run away” before I get sicker. So, I went to a private hospital, they provided treatment in a “cleaner” way but still did not fix me so fast as I imagined. I appreciate though the clean sheets, nice nurses, what I don’t appreciate is that private hospitals are “pure robbery” which us, Romanians, have to assume because of our Public Health sector – except maybe some Bucharest or west side Hospitals – that is in a very degrading state.
Try to stay healthy and take care!
El este Jose Mujica, presedintele Uruguay-ului. De ce ne place de el?
Pentru simplul fapt ca este cel mai sarac presedinte din lume:). Un exemplu de modestie, are un trai simplu alaturi de sotia lui, iar cea mai mare parte a salariului o doneaza pentru diverse proiecte sociale. Sa nu mai spunem ca zboara la clasa economica si conduce un Beetle vechi.
Uruguayenii sunt foarte mandri de liderul lor, un Robin Hood al generatiei noastre – fost activist al gruparii Tupamaros (un grup de oameni care furau de la bogati pentru a imparti saracilor).
Mai departe va lasam sa urmariti povestea lui in articolul celor de la The Guardian.