(The title is a lie, this year Halloween was dead to me. [No pun intended, honest.] Caught your attention, though. Boom.)
Trivia factoid: ‘Power Hour’ was so named because it used to take place before church, so the youth were powered up by coffee. Bearing in mind that French churches mostly start at 10am, I can see why they changed it…
I now cannot knit. Upset face. (Or cycle; more upset face.)
Back-story: I’ve been enjoying Figues de Barbarie from the market, aka prickly pears in English. I had no idea what Baloo was talking about, but then found some thorns in my hand. Got them out (or so I thought) with some tweezers, but then for the past week my left index finger’s been quite swollen. Thought I’d go chat to the pharmacist and see if s/he’d advise anything more than the savlon I had on hand. She told me to go to the doctor (with a bit of a “you crazy” look). So, my first encounter with the French healthcare system other than for when I had to get a medical certificate to participate in sports began. On the plus side, they saw me without an appointment in under 5 minutes, which I felt impressed by. It also seemed to be dealt with merely by virtue of my student card; no EHIC or form-filling needed. On the negative side, I think they may have over-reacted a bit. Tetanus shots, unlike climbing wall sessions, do not fall under my list of “why not do it if it’s free?”. Apparently though, the doctor thought that this was a perfect reason to get one. Doctor friends, is it not every 10 years you need a tetanus booster? According to the French doctor it should be every 5. I’m not convinced. Then had an alcohol-soaked bandage wrapped round my finger, was told I was deficient for not having medical grade alcohol in my room at all times, and given an “SOS Hands” clinic address to go to if anything got worse.
At least I know I’ll be looked after next time I need crutches..
Good thing the day ended with a soirée Navigateurs, or else I would have been entirely upset.