It is our first full day in Paris and all we have seen so far is a french doctor. Let me back up…
The night before our big trip to France, while getting out the suitcases I pulled a muscle in my arm or shoulder (cannot tell,they are connected and both hurt). That hurt. We bought some icy/hot patches to put on the arm, which helped only a little bit. It was painful but bearable and life went on.
Yesterday, when we arrived at our hotel in Paris, I added injury to injury. Getting off the itty bitty elevator onto our floor, I did not see the giant step down. The result? I fell, face first, onto the camera bag and my hurt arm. I tried not to use it and we went on. 4:30am. The pain is unbearable. I am crying, nearly hystercially. Bill is putting on his jeans to grab a metro to a hostpital, because by now I am convinced and have convinced him that my arm or shoulder or collar bone or SOMETHING is broken. Just has to be to hurt like that. We end up calling 15″ on the phone… France’s version of 911 minus the caller id system that identifies where you are and the nearly mandatory dispatching of a police officer. After talking to this French operator in the best English he could understand, he promised to send out a doctor. And, about an hour later, one showed up. He looked at my arm. He squeezed it. He moved it. He doesn’t think it is broken. He gave me a shot for some good pain killer and a prescription for more. And he recommended we go to the hospital for an ex-ray just to make sure. So now here we are. 1:30 pm and we’re just getting ready and yet to decide if we will spend our day in Paris at the hospital or in pain….
2 SEPT…. APRES MIDI
We optedfor the day of sightseeing… after a quick stop at a phamacy. Three prescriptions and an arm sling set us back 38 euros… less than some co-pays at home!
We stood in the line and took the ride to the tippy top of the Eiffel Tower. I thought for sure that I’d be terrified, but I wasn’t. The view was magnificent even if we didn’t know everything we were looking at. Then we hit the sidewalk and walked to the Louvre. It was too late to go in, I’d like to go back.
Next stop: the metro to find the Moulon Rouge. There is a neighborhood where I’d rather not hang out. But I am glad we saw it.
At dinner, curiosity got the best of Bill. Everyplace we went the menu included hard boiled eggs with mayonaise.