It has been a bit of a topsy turvy week this past week. T has gone to Florida for a fortnight - sounds OK for some, but he is working. (If he comes back with a glowing tan then I will be suspicious...!)
The day before T left, we said goodbye to our lovely - but beige - car. We wanted to put it up for sale before T went to Florida to see if there was any interest in it; wary of leaving it to the last minute and losing money on it as desperation led to a quick cheap sale.
We had a couple of viewing during the week - one guy didn't even get in it as it wasn't white (we had written the colouring the description of the car as well as post many photos on the ad, so not quite sure why he bothered coming...). The guy who eventually bought it was a car dealer, and our lovely - but beige - car is being shipped to America.
We had a couple of viewing during the week - one guy didn't even get in it as it wasn't white (we had written the colouring the description of the car as well as post many photos on the ad, so not quite sure why he bothered coming...). The guy who eventually bought it was a car dealer, and our lovely - but beige - car is being shipped to America.
It served us well; especially considering it wash't our first choice (remember the red car?); getting T to work through snow, freezing rain, storms and, of course, sunshine. It transported us down to Maine, and our day-long road trips across the border as well as Quebec and Ottawa amongst others.
The only time when it really let us down was when the heating stopped working one day, when the outside temperature was below minus thirty, so it wasn't too popular then. But only a few days beforehand it had had a huge chunk of ice fall three stories onto it's bonnet from the apartment building roof, so taking that into consideration we couldn't really hold it against the car.
A few days later I experienced another Canadian 'first': seeing a doctor.
My knee has been nagging away and, as much as I usually plough through any pain my body is throwing at me, I thought maybe I had better get it checked out.
We have a medicare card, which covers basic medical treatment, so thought I would put it to use.
First challenge: where is the doctors?!
One of T's colleagues told us what words to search for on the internet: "Clinique medical sans render-vous" or "medical clinic," as well as giving us the names of a couple of clinics located nearby.
So, on Monday morning, I rang up the first clinic, located near the gym and therefore which I knew how to get to. The phone message said "For English, press sen." I thought I must have missed it, so cancelled the call and rang back again. Sure enough, that was the message.
What was 'Sen'?!
Now, my French may not be that good, but I don't know any number or key on a phone pad which corresponds with 'Sen.'
I tried pressing 7 thinking maybe the phone message was'Sept': the message afterwards was in French.
Great.
I re-rang and tried pressing random numbers: all led me to a message in French, so I persevered with this message and proceeded to blah my way through the phone options on the French menu and finally reached appointments for that day...only to be told it was full for that day, and there was no way of booking one for later in the week (well, maybe there was, but that was really stretching my French skills...).
I then rang another clinic, which turned out to be situated at the end of our road: perfect.
I got an actual real-life person, who spoke English; only to be told they only accepted people with a registered doctor. Seeing as we hadn't registered with a doctor here (it was something on our 'Really should do that' list which we had never ticked off - note to self, never not do this again...), he then gave me the names and phone numbers of clinics where you didn't need to be registered to a doctor.
I rang the first number and this time managed to get to the English menu. From that I gleaned the opening times for walk-ins, and it's location. A ten minute bus ride from home, I decided to go for it.
I arrived, navigated the maze of signs in French and found the correct room for the clinic, signed in, and then waited...
...and waited...
...and waited...
...after sitting in the busy waiting room for three hours I was finally seen by a doctor.
She said it may be ligament.
When I asked if I should rest it or move it as it seems to get stiff, she replied that I could do as I wished...
I asked would bandaging it up help: "If you want to," was her reply.
I arrived back home feeling I had wasted my whole morning. I was no wiser to when I had left the house.
The more we are away from England, the more we realise what a fantastic thing the NHS is, even though when we lived in England we grumbled about it.
My knee has been nagging away and, as much as I usually plough through any pain my body is throwing at me, I thought maybe I had better get it checked out.
We have a medicare card, which covers basic medical treatment, so thought I would put it to use.
First challenge: where is the doctors?!
One of T's colleagues told us what words to search for on the internet: "Clinique medical sans render-vous" or "medical clinic," as well as giving us the names of a couple of clinics located nearby.
So, on Monday morning, I rang up the first clinic, located near the gym and therefore which I knew how to get to. The phone message said "For English, press sen." I thought I must have missed it, so cancelled the call and rang back again. Sure enough, that was the message.
What was 'Sen'?!
Now, my French may not be that good, but I don't know any number or key on a phone pad which corresponds with 'Sen.'
I tried pressing 7 thinking maybe the phone message was'Sept': the message afterwards was in French.
Great.
I re-rang and tried pressing random numbers: all led me to a message in French, so I persevered with this message and proceeded to blah my way through the phone options on the French menu and finally reached appointments for that day...only to be told it was full for that day, and there was no way of booking one for later in the week (well, maybe there was, but that was really stretching my French skills...).
I then rang another clinic, which turned out to be situated at the end of our road: perfect.
I got an actual real-life person, who spoke English; only to be told they only accepted people with a registered doctor. Seeing as we hadn't registered with a doctor here (it was something on our 'Really should do that' list which we had never ticked off - note to self, never not do this again...), he then gave me the names and phone numbers of clinics where you didn't need to be registered to a doctor.
I rang the first number and this time managed to get to the English menu. From that I gleaned the opening times for walk-ins, and it's location. A ten minute bus ride from home, I decided to go for it.
I arrived, navigated the maze of signs in French and found the correct room for the clinic, signed in, and then waited...
...and waited...
...and waited...
...after sitting in the busy waiting room for three hours I was finally seen by a doctor.
She said it may be ligament.
When I asked if I should rest it or move it as it seems to get stiff, she replied that I could do as I wished...
I asked would bandaging it up help: "If you want to," was her reply.
I arrived back home feeling I had wasted my whole morning. I was no wiser to when I had left the house.
The more we are away from England, the more we realise what a fantastic thing the NHS is, even though when we lived in England we grumbled about it.