If you know me, you may have noticed that I permanently juggle a few priorities, and I like to be as organized as possible:
- My Day Job
- Our Household
- Colin's School
- Colin's Hockey Practice
- Colin's Games
Did I forget something? My Me-Time? Haha.
Anyway.
Colin and his team had a game in the Italian speaking part of Switzerland. Meaning us parents don't have to take them to the away location but to the home base, from where they travel by team van. Two vans, for that matter. In order to drive one of these vehicles, one needs to have a "category D" entry in their driver's license. D is for vehicles with more than nine seats. If you passed your driving test in Switzerland by the end of 1990-ies, this category was automatically included. This isn't the case anymore.
Alternatively, if you have a job in the transporation industry or if you serve as a firefighter or as an Army truck driver, you're allowed to drive this kind of van as well.
Now many of our fellow hockey parents are younger than that. Others have a European or other country's driver's license.
Leaves a good ten people who are eligible, of which most have more than one youth player in the family = they are busy chauffeuring their own kids.
What it comes down to is our poor team manager sending out a request for two drivers ahead of time, and nobody answering. It usually helps if he "threatens" that all the parents have to take their kids themselves if nobody is available to drive.
For this trip we finally had two drivers for Saturday, when on Friday evening one Dad wrote "I have a feverless flu-like infection with a slight cough, so I will be wearing a mask on tomorrow's ride. If you do not feel comfortable, I will gladly give up my seat."
The next morning I woke up to a blood bath (more about that later) and the following message:
"Unfortunately, I also developed a fever overnight, and my condition has worsened considerably. Can someone please take over for me? I'm really sorry, I have not had such a bad cold for many years and I am never sick at work."
Oh no!
Theoretically I am eligible to drive the van. I even attended a "test drive" about two years ago. I felt very uneasy. You have to steer quite differently when turning due to the longer wheelbase. Plus it's a manually operated diesel vehicle with no features. No rear view camera, and no navigation system for example. As if driving this gigantic van wasn't hard enough for a short person like me, the thought of driving it while a bunch of excited teenagers are chatting and shouting back and forth, playing their generation's music on their boom box, makes me want to run away. Fast.
Hubby and I were planning to drive to the game by ourselves. So even if it came down to the parents having to drive, it didn't matter to us. I just did not feel comfortable to drive the van, as much as I like to be helpful.
Never mind that it was only 8am. I had to make pasta salad for Colin to take with him.
I had to interrupt my chopping ham and cheese for yet another bathroom trip.
Remember I wanted to tell you about a bloodbath I was experiencing. You don't want TMI, but I have been suffering from heavy menstrual bleeding, and on this particular morning it was particularly bad. On the advice of my gynecologist, I recently had a meeting with a specialist who performs a procedure to atrophy the endometrium in such cases. For the meantime I was given drugs to relieve - if not stop - the bleeding. I had taken one of these pills early in the morning, to no effect.
One more reason not to drive the van. Imagine my stopping every hour or less to change my tampon...
I really hated the timing. This always happens on road trips!
The route to Ticino is known for long traffic jams. What if I could feel I needed a bathroom NOW, and we were stuck on the freeway? I wanted to cry.
Maybe if I took another pill? The doc prescribed one for the morning, one for lunch, one for the evening, and one for the night. I usually don't like to take drugs, not even pain meds, but in this case I needed peace of mind - and clean underwear!
In Switzerland some healthcare providers offer over phone consultations. I had recently used this service when Colin complained of stabbing chest pains during and after practice.
So I called and talked to an assistant. She asked about my overal condition. Was I feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Any headache? Was my breathing OK? She was going to ask a doctor to call me back.
He told me not to increase the dosage under any circumstances, as this medication increased blood clotting, and thus there was a risk of thrombosis. Oh shoot, considering I was going to spend several hours sitting in the car, this was indeed not a good idea. I was so glad to have talked to a specialist. He was nice, too. While it's always awkward to talk to a guy about your period, he was really understanding and emphatic. And he wasn't even a gynocologist. As I learned, they are off duty on weekends. Don't women need medical advice on weekends?
I resumed my kitchen activities.
Next up, pickles. I removed a new jar from the fridge. Oh no, I could not open it!
This always happened when I was alone. Colin was still asleep, and hubby was at work. I tried all the tricks people tell you to do, and I used the special gadget, however, for the life of me, I could not open that freaking jar. I turned to YouTube. I watched three different videos on "how to open a jar", but I didn't manage.
I called hubby and told him I was going to come by the office.
This sounded very strange and unusual to him.
"Are you OK? Is something wrong?" He sounded worried.
No, no, I just really need your help, you're gonna love it. I just wanted to make sure you had no visitors.
On Saturday mornings, he usually meets with his former partner's widow, who is on our board of administration.
"She's not here yet - why?"
You'll see. I'll be there shortly.
When I showed up at the office he couldn't help but grin. I was in my PJs (OK, sweat pants and T-Shirt, other people consider this properly dressed), holding my cucumber jar thightly.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're pregnant, come on, give me that thing."
He grabbed the jar, turned the lid, and it was open. Just like this.
"Need anything else?"
By that time, fortunately a Hockey Dad offered to drive the second van, so two out of three crises were resolved, and as for the third one, I had to hope for the best.
At home I finished my pasta salad, took a shower, told Colin - he was awake in the meantime - to pack his hockey gear and get ready. Hubby picked us up, and we arrived in time at the meeting point.
The trip went really well. The traffic was pleasantly light. We stopped every hour for food and bathroom trips. Hubby usually hates this. He claims I had too many "basic needs" as he calls it. Well, he's gotta live with it.
We had enough time for some sightseeing at the location, there are three medieval castles to visit, and it was such a gorgeous day. The boys played well and won, so all is well that ends well.
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