Day 8: Boring

So today was pretty darn boring. We just stuck around the complex. We slept in this morning til 8:15. Woo-hoo! We're getting lazy now. So, we got up, John went to have his treatment, I did my run (out on the treadmill), John played video games, then we had his IV removed. It was bugging him so he chose to have it out. A new one will be placed again tomorrow. Needles are becoming a NBD thing for him now ("no big deal" for you non-texters). Then I took a shower (one can get pretty darn sweaty and stinky running in 70 degree weather), we ate lunch and John made new friends: Jose and Raoul. See, we bought a playground ball at Target this weekend in San Diego. Christmas clearance thing that is totally worth its $3 cost. It's kept him very busy for the last two days. Praise God for small favors. Anyway, the ball got a little flat today, so we were going to go across the street. There's a mechanic across the street and my plan was to borrow his air hose to pump up the ball. The problem was I didn't know how to say "air" in Spanish. There were 2 clinic guys standing outside the clinic having a lunch of coconut slices sprinkled with paprika from the fruit cart guy that always parks outside the clinic during the week (I think that was a run-on sentence...). Anyway, I approached one of the guys (we later found out his name is Jose) and asked, "Como se dice 'air' en espanol?" - How do you say "air" in Spanish? Jose answered, "El airo." Seriously, it was almost too cliche. I tried not the laugh, but a smile did slip. He got it and added, "Really, it is." Okay. I told him my plan and being the helpful Mexican they all seem to be, he went with us to visit el mechanico (again, not kidding) to be our translator. Now, notice how I did not say our "interpreter." It's two different things, something I am painfully aware of as a sign language interpreter, never a translator. Anyway. He helped us out at the mechanics, John got his air and he also ended up getting an hour of play with the big boys. The boys ended up skipping work for an hour and took John to the patio next door to play Street Ball. John had a lot of fun! I sat and read while they played their boy games. While seemingly mundane, it really made our day. If anything, being on "Mexican time" makes you appreciate the really small goings-on like this one. Mexican time means people get to sleep on the job. Can you believe that?! My work contract actually tells me I cannot sleep or I get fired (this kind of irritates me - what idiot fell asleep at work, was caught and fought it? Lowest common denominator, baby.). Over here, anytime you walk into the treatment room, there is at least one person sleeping. Okay, so Dr. Park, the acupuncturist doesn't count. He rents space in the clinic, so he can sleep if he wants. It's his money. But when you see the nurses, office staff or even some of the doctors taking a quick nap (usually an hour) it's another little reminder that we are no longer in Kansas, Toto. I think Americans can learn a little from Mexicans in that regard.