Self Sabatoge

So.

Well today was, of course, my second “interview” since we’ve come back from Palestine. I should mention that I haven’t done any cold calling at all. I figured it would be hard to convince someone they needed to hire me if I was leaving shortly thereafter.

So I’ve simply been looking at the “help wanted” ads on various internet sites. As I’ve said before there hasn’t been much out there. What we have run across is a million miles away and difficult to accept when we have but one car.

Perhaps we should purchase a second car?

Like a Volkswagen EOS?

That’s it.

In order to make it easier for me to take a job we’ll buy a new car. Like a Volkswagen EOS.

So the “interview” was at 3:30 pm at a Wal-Mart about 20 miles from our home.

The morning started with me driving Swell to her work and then heading home to pass the time until 3:30 rolled around. I left home at about 2:10 pm as I had never been to this Wal-Mart – or for that matter any Wal-Mart in the Atlanta area – ever.

Pam-Pam gave me good directions and I didn’t get lost, although upon arriving at my destination I realized if left to my own devices I would have gone a more direct way. I was there nonetheless.

And I was early.

A mere 55 minutes early.

I lucked out and this Wal-Mart was part of a newish looking strip mall. It contained many stores and restaurants so I decided I would get a quick bite to eat to pass the time.

And eat I did.

Eventually it began to creep closer to my “interview” time so I left the restaurant headed back to the car to dump my sunglasses and get my CV. I had emailed my CV to this woman earlier but I figured I should bring a copy just in case.

I arrived at the Wal-Mart Optical at 3:20 pm. I figured it is better to be early than late. So early I was.

I spoke with the optician a bit. I indicated I had a meeting with the optometrist (I had no idea how to pronounce her last name so I referred to her as the optometrist). The kind optician informed me that I had, in fact, beat the optometrist to the store.

I was there. She was not.

The optician wanted to know if I was being interviewed for location X or location Y.

Me: Ummmm…. dunno?<

The optician than asked me if I had any experience in the optical field.

Me Ummmm… I’m an optometrist?

Optician: Ohhh! Well Dr. ABC isn’t here so if you want to walk around we can…ummm… page you!

Me: Ummmm… I’m ok just hanging out here. Unless I’m making you uncomfortable?

Why I would want to wander around Wal-Mart prior to an interview is beyond me. But the offer was made and I declined.

Eventually someone came into the store to be helped. So I was left on my own. I sat and played with my phone. It was so fun.

I was a little peeved that I arrived before the interviewer. Turns out that Mondays are her day off and she had to come in for me.

I don’t know about you but if I had someone I needed to interview I would plan to be there at least 30 minutes early to ensure I was there on time and that I was mentally and physically prepared for the interview.

I’m not sure at what time she arrived but I don’t think she was too late, perhaps on time. I didn’t really note the time though.

She takes me to her office. Why office and not office? Well because it was a gigantic desk “hidden” around a slight corner. It was visible to anyone who walked toward the exam rooms and was bigger than any desk I’ve ever seen in my life.

Wide? Check!

Tall? Check!

Long? Check!

It turns out that this Wal-Mart Optical is on the small side and the leasing Doctor needed an office. Rather than making a small office in one of the exam lanes she chose to instead make the waiting room her office and move the waiting room chairs into a decent sized hallway. I don’t know what she intends to do when she’s busy and she has confidential paper work strewn across her desk for the whole world to see but that’s not my concern I suppose.

Let me step back from this tale to tell you dark optometric secrets.

The first secret is that there is a vast over supply of optometrists in the United States. Too many optometrists produced each year. The rumoured creation of three new schools in the next three years will only make this oversupply worse.

The second secret is that the practice of optometry is not all that difficult. While it is true that there is a lot of theory and knowledge behind the practice of optometry for the vast majority of patients optometry is not all that difficult.

The third secret is that optometry has its roots in retail. That is, optometry’s past was one of sales. Many would argue that current optometry is also one of sales. In the past(?) optometric eye exams were very cheap or free and the optometrist made up for the low cost eye exam via a large markup on the frames and lenses. As optometry developed as a profession optometric education advanced and optometrists moved from solely determining eye glass/contact lens prescriptions to the detection of ocular disease to the treatment of ocular disease. As all of this occurred very little changed in the cost of an eye exam. Exam costs were low but profits from the sale of spectacles were still high.

MBA's around North America looked at optometry and saw the profit in selling glasses and decided that they wanted a piece. Wal-Mart, Costco, Target, Lenscrafters America<’s Best, Binyon’s, VisionWorks, etc. started to sell glasses. They also decided that it would be good to have an optometrist nearby to perform eye exams and “capture” the patients’ eyeglass sales. In most cases the optometrists do not work for the store, rather they rent the exam space near/in the store for a very low price and churn out prescriptions in the hope that a good number of patients buy glasses from the nearby store. It is cheaper for the optometrist than starting a private practice and requires very little business acumen to be “successful”.

One of the big problems with optometrists who do this type of optometry is that the exam prices are still artificially low but they do not get any profit from the sale of glasses so they need to do volume to make any money. Lots of patients = quick exams = decent pay. Good/slower exams = few patients = low pay. The stores have no problem with quick exams. In fact they prefer them. Even though the optometrists are supposed to be independent the stores often dictate hours, number of patients to be seen (ALL WALK INS) and the type of exams that should be done. Prescriptions are far more important than medical care. So optometrists in these situations often use very little of their education and just crank out prescriptions and refer everything else out.

So here I was at my Wal-Mart interview – not really being interviewed by Wal-Mart but being interviewed by a Doctor working in Wal-Mart and leasing space from Wal-Mart.

Upon seeing the interviewing optometrist I knew I was in trouble.

She was young enough to be my daughter (graduated last year). She wasn’t terribly dressed up – I guess because it was her day off – and she was young (did I say that already?).

Anyhoo… she took me to her office and took my CV (good thing I brought it I guess.)

As she peruses my CV she basically says: “So, ummm…., tell me about… ummm… your experience?”

Ok. The last interview wasn’t really an interview but you want me to tell you about my experience? Five years of experience. Probably about 12-15 different jobs?

So I did. I started at the beginning and ended at the end. Not much to say. I graduated. I worked as an optometrist. I went to Emory. I went to Palestine. Now I’m looking for a job.

It bothered me just walking into Wal-Mart. It bothered me that I was there before her. It bothered me that she was so young. It bothered me that her “office” was out in the open. So when she asked why I got my MPH I told her. I told her that I thought that optometry was not a useful degree when it came to making a difference in the world (on a global community level) and that I thought the type of eye care missions that optometrists go on are stupid and a waste of time (not in those words).

I knew that a lot of optometrists – especially young ones – have been on these types of trips so it didn’t surprise me when she was slightly offended by that. She then proceeded to justify her Jamaica experiences as better than normal optometric missions although they were the same. I told her to keep her eyes out for the article that I helped write (she obviously didn’t read my CV) and that I had another one that should be coming out soon.

I’ll admit I was trying to show her up. I didn’t really want the job and I was being a smart-aleck. She then asked me if I had any questions for her.

Let’s review. The interview was:
1. Tell me about your experience.
2. Do you have any questions for me?

She asked so I asked.

Are you looking for an employee or an independent contractor?

“Ummmm… I’m open to both what were you thinking?”

Me “Well, legally I would be an employee so paying me as such is probably safer for both of us. How many days are you looking for? What are you paying? Etc. etc.”

The answer to the pay question was awesome! She said: “What were you thinking?”

Smart-Aleck “Do you know what the going rate in Atlanta is?”

Her “Sure, what do you think it is?”

Smart-Aleck “It is $XXX - $XYX”

Her with a look of shock: “$XXX sounds about right but if you are going to be an employee I have to pay your taxes (OK, obviously an exaggeration as she would pay employment taxes) so it’s not really $XXX I would pay you $XXX – XX = $YXX but really that is the same as $XXX.”

No it isn’t. I know the XXX is confusing so let me give you an example. If I said that the going rate in Atlanta is $50 per day she would say why yes it is but I have to pay your taxes so I’ll pay you $40 because the other $10 would be your taxes.

WHAT?

I just smiled.

She then showed me her exam equipment.

One last story because it will really show you how much I shot myself in the foot being a smart-aleck.

She showed me a machine that takes pictures of the back of people’s eyes and transmits that image to John’s Hopkins University where Ophthalmologists look at the pictures and then transmit a report back to the optometrists.

I was aghast! There is no need for such an instrument in an optometrist’s office (she is one of 11 test Wal-Mart offices in the US to have one) so I said: “Let me be cynical for a moment. Do you not think using this instrument is going to put you out of business?” “In Canada opticians (who attend technical school after high school) are being used to do computer based eye exams (determine prescriptions) which are then signed by an ophthalmologist who is in a remote location. With this instrument they can now conduct a complete eye exam. Find a prescription, send the health check to a remote ophthalmologist and there is no need for an optometrist.”

Her response is that patients always come back to find out what the report said. This is terrible. The optometrist can diagnose the problem and determine a plan of action. If the problem requires surgery they are sent to an ophthalmologist. If not, they can be treated/followed by the optometrist. So now she is working in Wal-Mart, thereby demeaning our profession. Seeing a million people a day and telling them that the remote ophthalmologist says everything is ok. She is a technician.

She will be replaced within the next 15 years by low level technicians who are paid next to nothing by the optical store.

Good bye optometry. Hopefully I can get out before it gets real bad. I doubt she’ll offer me the job but I was sure to tell her that I have more experience than anyone else she is interviewing (new grads.) We’ll see.

I really don’t care to be honest with you.

I should mention that she loves her “job” and has been given (is going to lease) two more Wal-Marts in the next few months. This is the new way to make money in Optometry. Take advantage of the over supply of Optometrists by paying employee optometrists very little. Sign multiple leases with a commercial overlord thereby creating volume over multiple locations. The leasing doctor becomes wealthy off the work of employee optometrists.

Good for her, I suppose.

Not the life for me.

But I’ll do anything for a year.

An Optometric Interview

Potential Employee Hi, I'm Potential Employee and I'm here to meet with Potential Employer.
Office Worker OK, just one minute.
Potential Employer Hi Potential Employee!. I'm Potential Employer. It is wonderful to meet you. Thanks so much for coming to the interview.
Potential Employee No proble....
Potential Employer Lets look around at the office. Here's the front. Here's the middle. Here's the back. I've built this practice from the ground up. I'm very happy with the way the practice runs. We've got a great group of folks working here. Our patients love us. We enjoy providing all potential optometric and optical services to our patients.
Potential Employee That's grea....
Potential Employer I graduated from Optometry school in 1984 and have practiced in this state since then. We've been in this location for 10 years and have really grown a lot. I'm married have 4 kids... they keep me real busy. I love them though. We have a lot of fun together. Just like the staff. We're a big family here at work. We enjoy each other's company and work hard and play hard. My spouse doesn't work in the office but they sure work around the office keeping the technology/decorating/magazines/plants in good working order. My kids are aged 12, 10, 8, and 6. Oh, my the six year old has been sick lately.
Potential Employee Oh N....
Potential Employer She's fine but keeps me up late. I'm so tired. Between the kids, the practice, my hobbies. It's real tough. So when do you want to start?

That my friends is how difficult an optometry interview is. Trust me I'm not exaggerating. I've been through a lot of them. Today's was similar. I think the reason I was interviewed and basically hired was because I won the fax race. My CV was the first over the fax machine so I was the first called. I showed up and wasn't drooling Too much so I was hired.

Its only for a day a week for now but hopefully it will grow into more (although it isn't even starting until we come back from Florida... I think). Its close by and is a "private" practice so theoretically it is better than what I've been doing for the past 5 years. The owner/optometrist seems real nice and they have more equipment than I'm used to so thats good.

I have another "interview" on Monday for a Wal-Mart (YUCK! Blech! etc. - you should know that we don't shop at Wal-Mart at all. For any reason. Ever.) but its nearish by and part-time. So we'll see. Its only for a year at the most (shhh... that's a secret) so I can handle it. Our biggest concern is transportation. We share a car and WILL NOT buy another one so we need to work opposite days or commute. We'll see how it turns out.

Wanna see something that costs $2500? Look here. Family - you better pay us back!

Our first weeks at home

Swell is well loved.

Me?

Not so much.

Swell was basically told that she has her old job back (at least 4/5ths of her old job) when she returns from Florida.

Me?

Not so much.

Not that I'd want my old job back. My old job was hideous.

Terrible.

Awful.

The worst job.

THE WORST JOB.

Well, maybe not the worst job, but a bad job nonetheless.

I've been looking for work but there hasn't been much advertised. I signed up with a company that offers fill-in services in the metro-Atlanta area. Not much out there and that which was offered is a million miles away. I took one job through that but its only for one day.

And not until August 1st.

I do have a meeting with an OD tomorrow. She has a part-time job very close to our house availableish. She has a couple of days per week for the rest of the summer and says it should become a 30 hour/week job in the fall. We'll see.

While Swell's been working I've been doing a lot of nothing.

A lot.

Of nothing.

Swell and I have had the last 5 days off together. We did our taxes.

Kaching! ... In four weeks.

We also came to the somewhat startling realization that we require somewhere between 8 and 36 hours of continuing education by December 31.

I realize that the spread between 8 and 36 is large and we should know how much CE we need but we have yet to be told.

In Georgia we require 36 hours of CE every two years. So our two years is up on December 31st. We think we have 28 hours done already but may be told that it doesn't count.

In June of 2006 we spent four days in Seattle and received a certificate for 28 hours of CE (necessary to maintain our Washington licenses), however, the fine folks in Washington didn't clear the CE through the organization that determines the acceptability of CE throughout the US. (If this organization OKs the education all state boards recognize the hours). So we now need to ensure that those 28 hours can be applied toward our 36.

Hopefully they will be.

As it stands now we need to obtain at least 8 hours of CE before December 31. So we have a few choices.

Florida at the end of October.

Or Las Vegas at the beginning of October.

They actually would end up being about the same cost.

I plan on going to the conference that is being held in Florida next year as I'll hope to be interviewing for a fellowship at that time (it won't be in Florida next year but it is the same conference).

So we're leaning toward Las Vegas because we're game for a good time and by early October we'll hate our jobs again and be eager to leave and have a good time.

Make sense?

Now how do we pay for it?

To Jay Baker and family

Our hearts are with you. She is in a far better place.

Thanks JL

"Dog River home of the world's biggest, dirty ho(e)."

One last jab from Romania

Remember when I talked about my computer being broken? Remember when I said I thought it was the AC adapter ? Remember when I talked about how we were unable to find an AC adapter in the whole of Bucharest? Remember when I allowed myself to be convinced by a couple of very nice Romanian guys that it was NOT the AC adapter? Remember when I sent my computer in for warranty repairs? Remember when they shipped it back working very well with only a new AC adapter?

Oh. You might not remember the last one. It just happened. Doh!

It is nice to have my computer back though. It is a good sized laptop unlike Swell's. Her computer is tiny and dainty - like her. My computer is large and heavy - like me. My screen looks like a big screen TV compared to her Ipod sized screen. 17 inches! The warranty guys basically said that if the AC adapter breaks again and I raise a big enough stink I get a new computer. Here's hoping.

So our wonderful friend April wrote in her blog a little while ago about the run around she was getting from her health insurance company. The title of the blog was "Blessed and Angry" as she was, rightfully, angry with the insurance company but blessed because she has access to health insurance.

We have yet to see Michael Moore's movie Sicko but I really want to. It may have to wait until it is out on DVD. I know that many who read this would be mortified that we enjoy Michael Moore movies but we do. As I've said before my political leanings are far more left than most.

What do the two preceding paragraphs have to do with us? Well I have not had medical insurance of any kind in 5 years. Swell is now, also without medical insurance. She had it from her work before we moved and then we would have received any care we needed in Palestine for free.

Now that we're back we need to find insurance for her for sure and for me if we can afford it. That's the big thing.

If we can afford it.

Medical insurance is tremendously expensive and when you are doing a family plan it basically covers nothing. Most of the insurances that we can afford now - i.e. are less than $600 a month - are high deductible insurances. $5000-$10,000 a year. We don't mind high deductible insurances. We're mostly worried about catastrophe. Cancer, car accident, pregnancy...

...wait. Oh. That's right pregnancy is not covered by any of these plans. Not a dime. Not even if you exceed your deductible.

I am disgusted that living in the United States of America we need to beg a multi-million dollar company to take on our lives and be kind enough to allow us to access health care. If we pay for health care out of pocket we pay 2-3 times as much as the insurance company. If we do buy health insurance they will only cover a small portion of potential "illnesses". Yet, the right wing conservatives here in the US claim that this is the greatest system of healthcare in the world. The pundits cry, "People have to wait for care in Canada and are dying in the streets because they have to wait so long". Not entirely true of course but at this point I'd wait for care because as it stands now if I get sick we lose everything.

When Swell realized that pregnancy wouldn't be covered by the types of insurance we can buy Canada moved up the list of desired places to settle and we're not even gonna have kids anytime soon.

Last post about our 6 months away

I’ll admit that when it comes to traveling I’m a little difficult. I hate the thought of being late for a flight or having to rush through an airport so I always want to be there very early. I will further admit that when it comes to going through security I am a little difficult. Nothing, and by nothing I mean nothing but crowds and getting my haircut, bothers me more than going through airport security.

I don’t mind the x-rays and the wanding and the taking shoes off and the taking computers out and the taking belts off and the liquids and the so and and so forth. I am always worried that I am holding the line up. I hate the thought that my taking three minutes to get through security might be 2 and a half minutes too long. I don’t care if the people in front of me have no clue and have to go back and forth for 10 minutes before clearing security but I always feel like I’m taking far too long even if I only take 2 minutes. It’s a personal flaw.

It bothers me a lot.

A lot.

Anyway we were at the airport about three hours early (perfect timing according to me). The taxi dude left, we had all of our luggage loaded onto two carts and we entered the madhouse of OTP.

I’ve traveled a bit. More than most but not as much as others. I’ve never encountered an airport setup like they have in Bucharest.

Well maybe Edmonton when you fly to the US but it isn’t as bad as this was.

When we entered the airport we hit a wall of humanity. People on every seat (not that there were many seats but the seats were full). People standing in all the aisles. People sitting on the planters. People everywhere.

There are a limited number of ticketing counters at OTP. They are not permanently assigned to any airline, rather they assign them on a next flight basis.

If there are 10 flights between 2 and 3 the flights between 3 and 4 have to wait until the counters clear from the 2 and 3 flights before they can check in for their flight.

As I said we were three hours early, there was no place to sit and the latest flights on the board (i.e. flights with a counter to go to) were 2 and a half hours before our flight. So we sat.

On a planter.

And we sat.

And we waited.
Eventually (a couple of hours after our arrival) our flight had a counter. We hesitantly approached the counter as the sea of humanity had moved to form a scrum directly in front of the British Airways counter. No semblance of a line. Just a big group of people.

Romanians are allergic to lines. Its, as I’ve said before, whoever has the sharpest elbows gets served first. Swell decided to break out her elbows and they are sharp.

Swell is, how should I say this… thin.

And, therefore, sharp.

She elbowed us to the front of the line and we were quickly helped with every airline passengers worst nightmare: “You probably noticed that the flight is delayed an hour and a half.”

Gosh darn.

Swell Well that gives us time to eat!

Our luggage was all over weight (but equally so. That should count for something. I eyeballed equal weighing of the luggage! Go me!) but they took it none-the-less.

We went through security. And I was as stressed out as usual, but we survived and made it to our gate.

Dinner time.

Romania doesn’t like us.

Hates us.

Wants us to never return. So it charged us $5 (US) for a can of coke. FIVE DOLLARS Add on top of that two sandwiches and we had to re-mortgage our house.

Ridiculous.

While Swell shopped (and by shopped I mean walked around looking at stuff) I was lucky enough to get to sit by a German braggart. He picked the wrong guy to brag to. I really don’t hold you in high regard if you bought land in Romania at a ridiculously low price shortly after the revolution and now have since made millions economically raping the people of Romania.

Good for you.

Jerk.
Flight was fine.

Quite short.

We landed at London Heathrow but our flight to Atlanta departed from Gatwick.

This required an airport transfer.

I think I wrote about our airport transfer on our way to Palestine. It was terrible. We were forced to wait in a freezing cold foyer in a line that was then ignored as the back of line got on the bus, and thereby filling it, prior to the front of the line (read us). So we had to wait a couple buses before getting on the old, decrepit bus for our transfer from Gatwick to Heathrow.

We were not looking forward to this transfer.

We were now thousands of kilometers from Romania.

The sun started to shine on us again.

We found the place to wait for the coach. It was warm.

We bought our tickets.

We got a discount because we flew in on British Airways.

We were instructed where to go and wait.

Organized unlike the chaos from the previous transfer.

Swell was thirsty so she went to get some drinks.

She found me a Dr. Pepper.

We got to the bus stop and saw a beautiful coach. Brand new. Next to it was a bus going to Gatwick but departing earlier than our ticket was for. The driver of our bus mentioned that we could just get on the other bus. We did.

It was empty. Comfortable. Beautiful.

At the front of the bus was a giant TV that was hooked to a camera on the front of the bus.

We were so happy.

Swell found a very expensive hotel for us to stay at the Gatwick airport as we had 12ish hours before our ATL departure.

It was such a nice hotel and, although expensive, was far cheaper than the rack rate listed on the wall at the front desk.

We were a bit perturbed when we found that we received a smoking room. We checked it out and it wasn’t too bad, it was actually ok and we were too tired to argue about it.

A quick dinner (don’t ask… o.k. our wallets could only afford McDonalds) and then it was off to bed.

Our checkout and flight the next day were fine. Our only problem was that we were severely warned that British Airways would not accept overweight luggage after September 1. Lucky us. They took our overweight luggage.

We were soon in Atlanta.

After we switched seats in the airplane because Swell’s was broken.

The seat I switched to had a broken TV. Jerks.

The guy sitting next to us thought he was a VIP. Took up his seat and half of mine. And he was not very big. Just important.

He tried to buy a bunch (I mean thousands off British Pounds) worth of duty free on the plane but his credit card was rejected. Insert roll eyes here.

I watched a movie (300) and then for the second movie Swell sat in the working TV seat. Just after the movie started my TV started working.

Just before the movie ended…


… the TV broke again. Dagnabit.

We arrived in Atlanta and so did all of our luggage. Thankgoodness.

Arriving in ATL from an international flight is a bit crazy. You land.

You go through security.

You collect your luggage.

You go through customs.

You recheck your luggage!?

You catch a train to baggage claim.

You collect your luggage again.

I don’t ask questions I just do as I’m told. And we were told to bypass the line to recheck our luggage. So I did despite the stares and the dirty looks. Don’t care. I’m an important person apparently.

We got our luggage again and walked over to the MARTA station (light rail transit).

The machine that gave tickets wouldn’t read my card – or more likely, I couldn’t figure out how to use the machine – so we headed over to the cashier where we were fortunate enough to have to wait 10 minutes (not an exaggeration) for her to finish her conversation with the guy in front of us.

No the conversation was not about MARTA or any other type of transportation.

It was just a conversation.

The airport is the end of the line so we were easily able to get a seat with plenty of room for our luggage.

Unfortunately to get home requires us to transfer trains.

It was rush hour.

That was not fun.

We squeezed into a corner with four suitcases and two backpacks. And we fought our way out of the train at our stop.

A short walk through the newly (and after a year and a half finally) finished train station and down the street and we were home.

Home sweet home.

The end of a long journey.

They say home is where the heart is. I don’t believe that as my home is not Swell but this is the next best thing. We are comfortable here. We are happy to be back in our home. We slept like babies in our bed that night.

&*()(*&
Not very happy about walking into a store today that sold the kind of clothes I would like to wear if I were rich and being greeted with a: “How you doing today Sir.”

I blame Swell. If I didn’t have to get my haircut I wouldn’t be a sir. My shoulder length hair, although it made me look older, made me feel/seem younger.

It’s her fault.

Sir.

As if.

*&*&

For your amusement. Our posts about our time in Romania/trip home take up 85 pages (there are some page breaks though) in Word and are made up of 30,492 words.

I married a genetic freak

So Swell is swollen. Two days back at work and she's got a big foot. She went to the HAE study center and is being treated with an "experimental" treatment. "Experimental" only because the FDA won't approve drugs (or slight modifications of drugs) that have been used in other countries for quite some time.

So what did I, the loving, supportive husband, do while Swell was forced to stay at the study center for 5 hours?

I went and saw Transformers. Great movie. Now I'm eating a tomato filled sandwich that Swell would never let me eat if she was here. I'll pay for it later (my mouth is already tingling - I'm allergic for those who don't know) but it tastes so yummy.

Maybe I'll try to write the rest of our post now too. But her time is almost up and I should probably go and get her.

Long Overdue

Clarification – some of you mentioned confusion regarding the paper that has been accepted. I’ve submitted two papers. One written as part of a group, the second on my own.

The one on my own has been returned and requires a lot of revision. I’ll revise it as soon as I get my computer back from the shop. The day after Swell and I arrived in Atlanta we headed to the store from whence I purchased my computer. Since it was under warranty they took it and sent if off for repairs. I hope to get it back in a few weeks.

The one written as part of a group was accepted by a different Journal than my paper and was accepted, surprisingly and uncommonly, without revision. I am listed as the second of five authors. This is important as you need to be one of the first three authors (generally) to receive credit for a paper. The paper should be published in the next few months.

Our trip home

To say we were excited on the day of our departure from Romania is an understatement. Every day in Romania our excitement grew. Our home, our things, our bed, our life called louder and louder every day. By the time July 4th rolled around we were bouncing off the walls in anticipation for our departure.

With our anticipated departure we began also to once again enjoy Romania. We spent more time with Swell’s cousin and his two oldest kids, as well as her Grandpa. Swell’s cousin took us around some of downtown Bucharest. We went to a very large and quite beautiful park. We enjoyed that time. We were even beginning to think that we might miss Romania.

Our departure day would soon make me wish that we never visited in the first place.

I’ll freely admit that some of the problems on this departure day were our fault. And when I say our I mean Swell’s.

On the evening of July 3rd we finished packing. Upon lifting the suitcases I broke the sad, sad news to Swell that we needed to start sacrificing things. All our toiletries no matter how full or empty were left behind. Books were left behind. Some clothing and a few small but heavy electric devices. I ‘spose we can get them back next year.

Swell also tried to arrange a taxi to take us to the airport for the next afternoon.

Here is the only part of the disaster that is our fault. During our many travels in Romania we met a taxi driver who drove a station wagon. He gave us his card.

We lost his card.

So we phoned a number that I had read off of a station wagon taxi earlier that day.

The dispatcher (by the way Taxi dispatchers in Romania have a very easy job. They only need to say 1) Hold and 2) No) gave us hope that we would easily have a ride by indicating that we should phone first thing in the morning to arrange for a pick up.

We were specifically requesting that the company send a large car, preferably a station wagon because we had A LOT of stuff.

Our packing finished we went to sleep for the last time in Romania this year. We woke up quite early to phone the taxi folks. Our plan was to leave at 11ish to give us plenty of time at the airport – just in case we needed to repack.

Swell phoned the same taxi company she had phoned the night before. The dispatcher (a different one than the night before) said: “We don’t have station wagons” and “We only accept phone calls 15 minutes before you want pick up” and CLICK. That’s right. She hung up on Swell.

Let me be clear. The preceding three things were said/done during three different phone calls.

Swell phoned the first time and the woman said that there were no station wagons. Swell was a little confused so later she phoned again (you’ll see why in a few minutes) and the woman upon hearing her question hung up on her. The third phone call was basically saying that they don’t have station wagons and they don’t “pre-book”.

Now I want you to recall where we got the phone number for this company. Think back. I told you earlier.

I read the phone number when we were on the maxi-taxi the day before (we were taking the Sick one out one last time) off of a STATION WAGON!

After the first “we don’t have station wagons” response from the dispatcher we became slightly concerned. We began to phone other taxi companies.

No. No. No. No. and so on and so forth.

Nobody was willing to come and get us from Pantelimon (aka Hell). Nobody. In between phone calls to other companies Swell would try the first company again. They hung up once upon hearing her question – remembering her from before. And insisted they don’t have station wagon taxis.

With overwhelming disgust and anger we were resigned to take the maxi-taxi to the Cora where there are always taxi’s sitting around doing nothing.

We left our luggage at the house thinking we would grab a taxi and go home and then to the airport.
We headed on to the dirt, pothole filled streets. We walked past the unfinished houses and the rabid dogs. Eventually we got on the overfull maxi-taxi and headed toward Cora.

I’ll admit I was angry. I was disgusted. My anger and disgust grew 100 fold when while looking out the window of the maxi-taxi I saw an empty taxi driving down the street. It was a taxi from the first taxi company. The company that said they don’t have station wagons. The company that we phoned at least 4 times.

This empty taxi was a beautiful yellow proudly proclaiming TAXI LEONNE on it’s side. It had the same phone number we had been calling painted on it. It was (and I trust still is) a station wagon.

Romania would not let us leave without getting a few more jabs in.

We ended up at Cora and saw the usual 5 or 6 taxis sitting in the parking lot. The first guy we asked had a trunk full of junk so couldn’t take us. The rest were either too lazy or too “conny” to take us. Some insisted that we would need to take two taxis to fit all of our stuff and ourselves in. We didn’t fall for it.

We left the parking lot with even greater anger and disgust beginning to be concerned that we would be stuck in Romania forever.

Our plan was to hail a taxi down on the street and hope for the best. My concern was that these little Dacia Logan taxis would not be big enough for all of our stuff. WE HAD A LOT OF STUFF.

Long story short eventually a guy stopped and asked if we were looking for a taxi. We explained the situation got in the car and he took us to the home. We said our quick good byes while we was able to expertly squeeze our stuff into his tiny car.

Off we went.

Now I didn’t hear the conversation between Swell and the Taxi dude so I just watched the meter.

Upon arrival at the airport the meter read slightly over 50 Lei.

I was feeling generous in spirit because this guy got us to the airport on time and with all of our stuff. I figured I’d give him 100 Lei.

Swell said: “No give him 120 Lei.”

We did.

He said: “That’s not enough. Give me 150 Lei.”

I was dumbfounded. Speechless. Aghast. Disappointed. Angry. But so ready to leave.

We gave him 3 times what the meter said just to be done with Romania.

Only to walk into the dumbest airport in the world.

Only in Romania.

Sorry

So the promised post has yet to happen. Its been a quick moving week. With getting our car insurance started again, getting our cell phones started again, groceries, unpacking, laundry and so on and so forth (including 6 large bags of clothes to Goodwill) there hasn't been much time to sit down and write. I'll do it, I promise, but not today.

Suffice it to say we're doing well. Swell has work on Friday. I've applied for malpractice insurance (which I let lapse while we were away) so that I can start working ASAP.

We made a mistake with our city taxes which ended up with them being paid twice. We're (I'm) calling around trying to get a refund. We just got 6 months of mail from Swell's parents (it's not as much as I thought it would be!) as we were forwarding it to them while we were away. Surprised that my W-2 from my main job wasn't in there. Figured out after some concern that they probably just mailed it to one of the stores here in Atlanta. They did. Went and picked it up so with that and all our other tax documents we should be able to do our taxes next week. Hopefully we'll get a refund. We need a refund. If we owe...Mum, Dad we're moving in.

Deep Sheet

1. Rent the movie Children of Men
2. Go to the bonus features menu
3. Watch the documentary "The Possibility of Hope"
4. Consider putting a gun to your head
5. Decide that having children does not sound like a nice idea

Real post...tomorrow?

Oh I got this in the email the other day. Y'all might not care but it is big and exciting news for me.

"04-Jul-2007

Dear Dr. In Charge of Writing the Group Paper I was Part of:

It is a pleasure to accept your manuscript entitled "The Rationale for
Shifting from a Volunteer Clinical Approach to a Public Health Approach in
Addressing Refractive Errors" in its current form for publication in
Clinical and Experimental Optometry. You will recieve proofs in due course.

Sincerely,
yadda yadda

Finished!

178 days
3 continents
7 countries
14 flights
1 beautiful, amazing woman by my side

We have crossed the finish line. I write this from our couch in our condo using our free internet basking in our air conditioning.

Truly an amazing race experience.

Let's blow this popsicle stand

We're outta here. We're leaving tomorrow afternoon and I have used up every last minute of our internet time so if you emailed me, messaged me, sent me nude photos, enticed me with the promise of millions of dollars to act as your middleman, or promised me bigger breasts it will have to wait.

Can't wait to have a clothes dryer.
Can't wait to be able to just up and leave with our own car.
Can't wait to sleep in our own bed.
Can't wait to have an exercise room.

Our neighbours better not have password protected their wi-fi.
Our house better be still standing.
Optometry better be an easy profession as we haven't done an eye exam in 6 months.
Our air conditioning better still be working.

We'll try to get in touch from London - it will be extra fun to fly through there these days!

See ya' wouldn't want to be ya'.

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