Wow, past couple of days

Hello everybody.

We are still alive.

At some point really soon, we will write a blog about how we afford it, since that's the absolutely most common question we get. We'll also update everybody on the past several days of hitchhiking.



But first things first.

We're alive.

I had a brief bout with appendicitis a few days ago. My stomach started to hurt as it has in the past, and on our way to Gothenburg, I told Stina that I had to see a doctor. We had just gotten a ride with Leo... a man who picked us up near where he had dropped us off about 10 days earlier (that's right, two rides with the same guy!). I think because he had given us a ride before, I felt more comfortable talking with him openly about what I needed... I.E. a hospital. He took us to the public transit (a ferry to the center of town) and showed us which tram to get on and which stop to get off at for the hospital. We did as we were told. I tried not to groan with pain, but when we got off the tram, I walked about 100 meters and then lay down on the ground. Stina went to find the entrance to the emergency room. It was only 30 meters away. I got up and walked in. Stina had gotten a number. It was 6:45pm. We waited an hour or two. A nurse called my number. He was very kind and very clear. First, once we were away from Stina, he asked if there was anything secret I was here for, then he did the things nurses do when they're checking you out like blood pressure and temperature (in the ear!). Then he took my passport and my Visa. I paid 2898 (398 dollars) kröner, which is what Americans must pay. He told me this would cover the emergency room visit, but anything else would be extra. Then he sent me back out to the waiting room with a spiffy new bracelet that said my name and had a bar code on it. A kind fellow waiting room patient offered us any help she could provide. Stina borrowed her cell phone and called the couchsurfer we had lined up for the night to explain that we wouldn't make it, 'cause we were in the hospital. We watched very quiet Family Guy, Simpsons, some Stevel Segal and Keenan Ivory Wayans movie, and had just gotten to a Jackie Chan film called The Accidental Spy when an orderly led me to a room just outside of the waiting room where I could lie down on a gurney. They watch TV very quietly since it's all in English and they read the subtitles, I guess. Stina got to dozing on my shoulder after I made her tell me a story promising that all would be well. She reassured me with a story about how my appendicitis was actually a bizarre pregnancy that would have to be resolved after 9 months of pain and a c-section. She could have been more reassuring. I rubbed my belly and jiggled it, and this seemed to ease the pain. I've noticed in past circumstances that showers tend to ease the pain as well. I hypothesize that the nerve endings start to pay attention to the surface sensations and distract my brain from the pain a little bit. The doctor arrived at I don't know what time. As soon as he entered the room, my pain eased a little more. There was something very healing about this humorful Swedish doctor. He felt my belly, listened to my description of the pain and my medical history, and joked about the U2 concert. He told me that the symptoms all added up to a minor flare-up. He said they used to take out all appendices, and he could do it "snip, snip in 10 minutes" but then I might have bowel problems tomorrow or in 20 years. So he came up with two recommendations: 1. He could keep me overnight for observation or 2. He could send me on my way. I said our travel was flexible, and so a day or two, if he recommended it, would be fine... would it cost much? His response... he didn't know. From this point on, I felt very much like I was in an American hospital. Nobody had any inkling how much anything cost. He said he would ask the secretary, but he couldn't imagine it was more than a couple hundred kröner. He left and came back... she didn't know either... she'd tried to find the answer on the internet, too, but couldn't. He said, though, that he would make sure I was sent away with some antibiotics and painkillers as a gift from Gothenburg. That was a funny phrase to me that he mentioned several times. He said "I can't stand here and say Sweden is perfect, it won't cost you anything, but I think so." Then he sat in a chair and chatted with us for a bit, which was really nice to see. Hospitals often make me feel harried and hurried, but I felt like if something was wrong, I would have an opportunity to tell him. I think that's a rare gift that some doctors possess. I've seen it before, and it's one of the best feelings I can get from a doctor. We told him about hitchhiking and I mentioned that if he said we should not do it, we wouldn't. He didn't say that. He poked me once to prove a point... as if to say, "I know this hurts, but it doesn't hurt SOOOO much". He was right, of course.
My mother keeps saying I have a high tolerance for pain... but I wonder if maybe I have a low tolerance. We keep hearing stories now about people having their appendices taken out, but doctors don't want to take mine out.
Later a nurse came in and gave me morphine. I felt mostly better already, but wasn't awake enough to protest.
To conclude, I spent the night in the ward. Stina also got a bed to sleep on. The nurses were very nice, one of them even promised to find out how much a night in the hospital would cost. She never did. I felt much better in the morning, ate breakfast, saw the doctor one more time, took a shower, got antibiotics ("a present from the hospital"), and checked out with the nurse. I have no idea if they're just going to charge my Visa card for the further expenses or if everything was covered in that initial 2898 kröner.

More on Dumpster Diving

Everybody's comments are appreciated and well-taken.

But there's something more about dumpster diving that you all should know.

What is "food"? I'm not talking sketchy "is that moldy?" questions, I'm talking legitimate food. Last night we went out again. Quite an unexpected evening. We arrived at the dumpster at 10:30pm. Just as I ducked around the side of the dumpster, a car drove by. Stina walked on, seeming to just be enjoying the night air. The car stopped. It parked. From it emerged 2 fellow scruffy-looking youngsters. "I see we had the same idea." says one. Stina introduces herself and me (still hiding behind the dumpster, 'cause I can't see or hear what's going on).
The dark-haired fellow introduces himself:
"I'm Brendhan, from Seattle."

No, seriously.
My hair isn't dark enough that I'd self-describe as dark-haired. That's not me talking and misspelling my name. That's him. With him is Scott, the guitarist.

We spent the evening with them. From grocery story 1, we rode in the van with them
to grocery store 2, and learned their stories - road trip, Vashon Island, in a band playing at the Saturn, odd jobs, nice though racist landlady, etc, etc.

We're going to try to work together to create a big enough busk that we can perform in "The best pitch in North America" somewhen near Mardi Gras.

Anyways, at Grocery Store 2 we found treasure:
Green, red, and yellow bell pepper tops and bottoms. Nearly a dozen bottles of Prego.
And this is what I mean by "What is food?"
It seems absurd to me that the grocery store would throw these things out. Presumably they slice the bell peppers prettily and throw out the parts that aren't the middle. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't donate those either, because the perception is that they aren't worth keeping. But we found gallons and gallons of these discarded parts. And tonight I am making so much spaghetti sauce, God would cry.
And the Prego - something had been spilled on them, so they threw the whole carton out. It wasn't worth it to wash them. The marketing is, after all, where so much of the money goes, so washing them off and maybe smearing the label destroys the merchandises value... plus you'd have to pay someone to wash them off... Oh, I don't know the reasoning, but this is the kind of thing that I know is still good to eat... hell, they're still vacuum sealed.

Bah and Hooray to waste!