I'll See You a Pandemic and Raise You a Liver

 I know.  We haven't blogged in ages.  But all that changes today!!! It is hard to believe that any year could be worse than 2020 but we are working on it.While the exile of Trump to Mar-A-Lago is truly a source of joy and succor and the ascent of My Boy Joe (I was backing him for YEARS and taking a lot of guff for it) is so far marvy, the rest of the Searles' world has been a bit trying.  So, here goes.

As Alex had just began to launch his new business (website services for highly underserved businesses in Ajijic) he started to get sick.  First it was occasional episodes that would recede in a few days.  Then they began to get closer and more intense.  So, off to the Doc.  Initially, they said that his liver was inflamed but with a special diet and no liquor or Tylenol the liver would repair itself in a year or two because that's the way livers are -- resilient.  More illness.  Closer, worse.  More doctors.  "Well, we can treat it but at some point he may well need a liver transplant." Yikes!  More illness.  Closer, worse.  More doctors. "He needs a liver transplant NOW!" Double Yikes.  Despite the accumulated knowledge of zillions of doctors they have no idea why his liver has gone south.  Best thought is that he has had Epstein Barr which has been known to lurk in one's system and go crazy and attack an organ. 

Before we left Ajijic, Chico was looking after Alex as he slept.

Let me interject at this point that our GP in Mexico is super.  Call him on his cell at 3AM and he's  immediately on the phone to you. Totally has your back.  But there is only so much he can do. So we end up going to see a Mexican liver transplant specialist.  There were 2 in Guadalajara but one had his license pulled for jacking around with the transplant waiting list (probably bribes involved) and so now there was one.  There may be more but nobody knew of any. We did not view this as hopeful.  But we went to see him.  Now, he was extremely nervous about dealing with us.  He kept repeating things like:  "Well, it's hard with Americans because everyone thinks they do medical tourism and come here and pay somebody's gardener to get half his liver."  He said this multiple times while also invoking something about the Declaration of Istanbul which meant there couldn't be a transplant for three months...or forever, who knows.

He dismissed us even though Alex could hardly stand and wasn't making a lot of sense and within 12 hours Alex was comatose and unable to perform any physical or mental tasks.  Call to Santiago.  Call to ambulance.  Off to hospital (for the third time in 3 months).  They got him somewhat stable and then Santiago, looked at us and said, "If I were you, I'd get him on an air ambulance and into the States." No need to repeat that.  On our way.

You might think that riding in a Lear Jet is pretty sexy and cool.  Forty years ago I rode in one and it WAS sexy and cool.  Not so much this time.  I have never paid so much money to ride crumpled up with someone's (Alex's) feet in my face.  So, we're packed in with pilot, co-pilot, critical care doctor, general practice doctor, stretcher, Alex, tubes, oxygen, bottle of God knows what and some snacks.  And we fly to LA.

The Mexican ambulance dropping Alex off to take the air ambulance to LA.

The air ambulance - a Lear jet.

Loading some of the gear onto the jet.

Alex and the two doctors on the jet.

The American ambulance with Alex loaded for transport to Cedars - Sinai.

The Docs escort us via ambulance to the Cedars Sinai Emergency Room.  It is Saturday night.  Do you know what an ER in LA looks like on a Saturday night?  Just let your imagination run wild and then double it.  However, if you ever want to get quick service, show up with a cadre of people wearing shirts that say in blaring red letters FLIGHT CREW and two thousand pounds of medical equipment.  Clearly not their first rodeo,  the Air Docs wangle us to the front, brief the ER folks and within a few hours Alex is stationed in his room.  

Meanwhile Justin has been working his magic to get Michael's second covid shot at Dodger Stadium but has to get me an appointment at a different site.  We all pile into the car anyway and head for the stadium along with about 5,000 (I may not be exaggerating) other cars.  The experience renewed my faith in American efficiency and good will,  We snaked and meandered through the endless red cones until we reached the injection tent.  No horn honking, road rage, hurled insults.  AND they gave me the shot too even though I wasn't registered there.  One thing off the list.

Lines of cars waiting at Dodgers Stadium for the Covid vaccine.

Michael and I have quickly rented a VRBO in spite of the fact that there is a perfectly fine 2 bedroom condo we own in LA.  Justin, eldest son is, at his point, trying with all his might to dislodge the two "roommates" who were supposed to be staying for a few weeks and ended up staying over a year.  They seem to have difficulty understanding why they should move even though they pay no rent or assume any responsibility for...well anything.  In order to accommodate us, we order a queen size sleep sofa for the living room and deposit the old couch on the curb for some penniless student/actor to pick up and cherish.  But this is LA.  Two days later it is still there.  The next morning it is STILL there but there is a homeless person sleeping peacefully on it.  Justin ends up having to pay a "charity"  $100 to take it away. So LA. 

It didn't take long for this person to take advantage of a comfortable sleeping spot.

We always seem to end up with very interesting VRBO hosts.  Exhausted and bedraggled, we were met by Peggy who imparted in rapid fire style the following:  1) she has a son whose career is being a stilt walker (you read that right) in Humboldt County.  What this really means is that he grows a serious crop of weed and, by the way, can walk on stilts; 2) She was a female wrestler and is now a female wrestling umpire. "Even though it's all fake, after you push 40 it starts to hurt."; 3) She augments her income by renting out her property to film crews (she lives across from Warner Bros.). This is demonstrated one day while I am working on a jigsaw puzzle in our "private" courtyard when 8 young Japanese people walk in, completely ignore me, and start to decide how they will position the their warriors and archers.  Why warriors and archers would be fighting on a patio in suburban Burbank I find rather confusing but I just let it go.

Chico on his dog bed on the futon sofa at the VRBO after his exhausting three day journey from Ajijic to LA.

Meanwhile, Alex is being blood-let, imaged and prodded vigorously by the liver transplant team at Cedars Sinai.  Yes, indeed, he needs a new one.  After about five days the financial people run his insurance and discover to their (and our) surprise that as of March 1 (it is now March 8ish) Alex's insurance stopped using Cedars Sinai as a provider so -- sorry buddy-- no liver for you here.  He will, instead, have to go to USC Keck Liver Transplant center which is also very good but this whole thing is a pain.  Particularly, and oddly, just after the insurance issue is surfaced, Cedars pronounces Alex good to leave.  Yep, out you go sonny.  About 18 hours later, Alex goes south once more and is checked into the LAC + USC ER and hospital where he spends another four or five days (it all blurs).

Alex at Cedars-Sinai...

and getting ready to be discharged. His belly, legs and ankles were still very swollen with water weight. Within two weeks of this Alex lost a little over 30 lbs. of fluid and was back to his normal self.

After Alex's stay at Cedars Sinai and his sojourn at LAC + USC, Michael has flown back to Ajijic to fetch belongings for the long haul and Chico Rico, the world's friendliest pit bull.  He throws everything in the car and drives for three straight days to make it back to LA.  He crosses the border brandishing various documents including a hard won health certificate for Chico.  The border agent inspects nothing, looks at no documents but spends a pleasant few minutes discussing pit bulls and which kind he should get.  The border is always a crap shoot.

I'm only going to take you up to today because, well, it is just so wearing.... Alex's PCP cannot see him for two weeks after he gets out of the hospital even though the discharge notice says he should see "immediately".  This is because he is one month from retirement and "easing" himself into it by only working two days a week.  When Michael and Alex finally make it into his office it is apparent that he should have retired perhaps a decade ago.  He pronounces: "you don't need me, you need a hepatologist".  Well, duh.  Meanwhile, while Alex calls Keck each day they reiterate that he is "not in the system" and therefore does not exist.  This, despite the fact that he was referred to USC Keck by USC.  It is inexplicable but after about another two weeks he miraculously "enters the system" and he is now scheduled to run the gauntlet of preliminary liver appointments in Mid-May.  After that we should know more -- God, I HOPE we know more.

We have managed to have some fun and see some interesting places -- many parks to assuage the condo confined Chico. Also, Alex has been gaining strength and stamina each day so we aren't as crazy worried/obsessed as we have been.  Although, maybe we should be.  So to lighten the mood, we shall include some pastoral scenes (kind of) of LA.  We hope all of you are well and we are holding our collective breaths for the end of this pandemic (and liver) nightmare.  Take care.  More soonish.

One day we took Chico for a walk in Beverly Gardens Park in Beverly Hills and encountered this garden "nymph".

The flowers in the garden park were fabulous...

and as we got closer the "nymph" was taking pictures of the flowers with her phone.

A shady pergola with benches for resting and viewing the flowers,...

such as this magnificent rose.

Deirdre spotted this cupola and asked what Church this might be...

and I pointed out this was the Beverly Hills City Hall.

The Brand Library at Brand Park in Glendale, where we went on another outing.

The relocated, restored Doctors House at Brand Park. A quintessential example of a Queen Anne Victorian house.

Also at Brand Park was this sculpture titled "Miss American Green Cross"...

an early tribute to the conservation movement.

Springtime in LA brings out some amazing flowers.

Finally we will leave you with what we have termed "doggy TV". Chico enjoys looking out the window while on his dog bed, because it is the perfect height for him to observe the comings and goings of the neighbors (especially the many dog neighbors).

It's Really Not LIke Mexico but ...

 Yet More and More Pandemic....

It has now been almost 6 months without a fiesta.  It is eerily quiet.  No cojetes, no blaring Mariachi's at 1 or 2 or 3 AM.  No kids at the school next to us kicking soccer balls in the pool or blaring techno music at dance parties. Yet slowly, slowly people are starting to emerge.  This is a culture that is hard to subdue.  The other night we went out with our friends Jon and Robert to Las Telares for dinner.  We can do that because virtually all the restaurants here are outdoors or at least part of them are outdoors.  When we left we walked towards the Malecon and on the corner was a Mariachi band with a most impressive female singer. There was a male singer too who was excellent.  He was not a member of the band however but the fruit vendor we often buy from.  You may be able to see his fruit cart that he abandoned to become part of the performance. A crowd gathered and looking around you could see the genuine pleasure on the faces of the people that a slice of normal Mexican life had returned to the streets.  Michael will try to embed the video but you may have to settle for just pictures.

Like most of you, I think, our lives have settled into a routine which is pleasantly numbing except when you think you just MUST do something different.  As noted in the last blog our remedy for terminal boredom is to visit haciendas.  We check them out and then decide if we want to book a couple of days of R&R.  Not that our lives under the pandemic are anything but R and R.   So last week we set off with our friends Barbara and Allen.  We were going to try for a twofer in that there were two haciendas within 10 minutes of each other.  We learned that one was closed on Wednesday but we figured that it WAS a hacienda with horses etc. so there must be people around.  We pulled up to the gate and sure enough it was locked.  But there was an intercom.  Barbara went up and buzzed and a man answered who spoke good English.  Barbara explained that we knew they were closed but might we just take a quick look around because we'd like to come back and stay.  He said, "We're closed."  End of discussion. I only bring this up because it exemplifies the worst of Mexican marketing -- if one could even call it that.  In this particular case:  1) I had called but the line was out of order; 2) I had emailed but gotten no reply; 3) In the middle of a co-vid pandemic you have 4 gringos at your gate who want to spend hundred of dollars at your hacienda and you say, "We're closed".  In the U.S. we would have been all huffy and said "Well, hell will freeze over before we stay there."  Here we say, "Yeah, we'll have to come back I guess."

So onward we went to the second hacienda -- Hacienda el Carmen.  This is truly a beautiful and large hacienda located in the midst of cane, corn and agave fields.  It was established in the 1600s and additions were made, as was common, into the 1800s.  It is a little bigger than the Defranca which we visited and stayed at previously.  The El Carmen has 29 suites or rooms all furnished in antiques, a pool, a spa, stables and a playing field for soccer or cricket (cricket?).  We had a tour of the facilities along with six women who were clearly from Guadalajara.  They were an interesting crew -- very intent on having their photos taken in front of every fountain, pool, event room etc. I felt like I was back in Japan. One of the interesting facets was that the hacienda had two aqueducts. The Spanish/Mexicans were very into aqueducts which they may have learned from the Romans who were REALLY into aqueducts.  In any case, I believe the water for the aqueducts came from what we affectionately call "Snake Lake".  And, because not much is happening to report on, I will give you the full story of Snake Lake.

The photos of the hacienda speak for themselves...enjoy!

When we were first visiting Guadalajara before even moving here we decided to go see the pyramids at Guachimontones.  They are round pyramids which of course is a contradiction in terms but they are quite interesting and rather mysterious.  They only recently have figured out exactly who built them and what their culture was like.  Now they have an impressive museum and paved parking lot.  When we went ten years ago it was a rutted dirt road, no explanations or signage and a Mexican guide propped up under a tree napping.  I kind of liked the old way.  In any case after viewing the pyramids and the ball court we decided to lunch at a restaurant on the shore of the nearby lake.  

Of course, being gringos we showed up way too early but they were gracious and sat us at a table within 2 feet of the lake.  We were speaking our ten years ago Spanish (virtually none) when they realized they needed to call in reinforcements.  So they called this guy who had recently been deported from Chicago and he came in on his day off to minister to our needs.  This was WAY beyond the call of duty and we felt quite obligated to them at this point.  However, exactly at this point, the lake erupted in splashing and writhing and whatever just feet from our table.  And there, for our viewing pleasure, were gazillion red and white (and maybe black-- I was too stunned to actually register colors) striped water snakes furiously mating.  It was both frightening and disgusting since as you all know I detest snakes (phobia #2).  We couldn't leave after they had just called in our newly deported waiter and even asking for a table far, far away from the lake seemed rather impolite.  Michael provided good advice such as:  "Just don't look...or listen", "pretend we are in the Alps with no snakes", "try to eat quickly".  I did all three and somehow survived lunch.  The thing about Mexico is no one is bothered by... well anything.  It didn't seem that the waiters would think that we would find writhing, mating snakes out of the ordinary or upsetting during a dining experience.  And, trying to meet their expectations, we attempted to act nonplussed.  Michael more than me.  Enough about Snake Lake.  Don't ask us to take you.

Sorry To Be Dull

It is difficult to be adventurous, engaging or amusing during a long standing pandemic.  It's not just us.  All our friends complain except those who are engaged in worthwhile pursuits such as learning Basque or finally tackling quantum physics.  The biggest complaint we all seem to have is that there is no definitive end to this thing so that we can plan what little is left of our life spans.  I mean all those irresponsible college kids are out partying and enjoying super spreading but so what.  They're sick for a couple of weeks (if they don't defy the odds and die) and they've still got sixty+ years left in them.  They need to stay home, wear a mask and shut up so we, the elderly, can once more stride the earth without fear.  Beyond college kids my ire extends to Mr. Trump, the entire Congress, Bill Barr (just because), Dr. Brix (probably a sellout) and all those random outlier cabinet members and doctors (not my dear, sweet Fauci) that Trump manages to draw to him like a magnet.   OK.  I feel better now.  We will really try to come up with something for another blog but set your expectations low please.  In the interim, stay safe, stay sane and hope for the best.  

This period of time has forced us to slow down and given us the opportunity to observe more closely the natural world around us. An immature Cooper's Hawk spotted from our terrace, a caterpillar (name unknown), the first butterfly (name unknown - if any of you are amateur lepidopterists perhaps you can identify it), the second  & third butterfly is the Zebra Heliconia and finally a walking stick insect.