Failing at your own business–Seamstress

sew she did

So with my new acquisition of a singer treadle sewing machine (See Dirty and Ragged?), I was all impatient to get started. Unfortunately, my schedule didn’t allow me a chance to get right on it and my machine languished a week without me touching it. Finally, vacation started and I jumped right in with both feet. I was going to make millions with my new machine. Well, I wasn’t really aiming for millions, just enough to pay for the thing, it was rather a luxury item after all.

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Loading the bobbin!

So I sat down and determined to figure out how to use it. I spent 40 minutes trying to thread the needle. Then another 2 hours trying to figure out how to load the bobbin. I had to give it a rest after that. When my husband came home from work, I begged him to look at the machine since I was near tears. What could I be doing wrong? He said that his grandmother Sofia always put the foot down before fishing for the bobbin string. He did that and VOILA! It was ready to sew. DUH!

Well, I had enough for that day, but I was up and at’em early the next morning. I found that morning was not the time to sew. I had strategically placed my machine in the back room, giving me plenty of light and room to work. However, it’s an east facing room and entirely too bright for morning sewing. Sigh. Oh well, I had to wait until the afternoon and did the less exciting chores in the morning.

Finally, after lunch, I cleared my schedule to begin. My goal was to make a few pillows out of scraps I had been collecting from our old clothes. Pillows seemed an easy project, I’ve had some experience with making and selling those at Ye Olde Crappe Shoppe.

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My make-shift bandages

So I pinked and pinked and pinked until I had blisters on my fingers. After a few hours work, though, I had a nice pile of usable rectangles. I realized I may have gone a little overboard when my husband starting hiding his pants from me afraid I’d cut them to bits. Time for the next step.

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Piles and piles of pinked fabric

I picked a flower patterned group and a contrasting solid beige color for my first pillow and sat down at my machine, raring to go.

It was like I’d never sewn before. I bent the needle, didn’t pin appropriately and had the fabric move, had to rethread 40 million times, sewed the wrong sides together, had the thread bunch up, had to rip out the seams and start again, and tore the fabric piece. Maybe it was time to rethink my plan for world domination through sewing.

I did finally get the hang of it and produced a pillow. That was enough for that day!

Over the 2 week vacation period, I spent nearly every afternoon in the back room, cutting and pinning and stitching. My son said that he’d heard me cackling with glee on several occasions. My husband started complaining about the big mess I was making (that’s what he calls all my projects). It was amazing!  I could go as long as the light or my legs held out. By the end of the week, I had oodles of completed pillow cases ready to be stuffed.

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Some of my scrap pillows!

Only, I didn’t have any stuffing. As the whole point was to earn money without spending any more, the pillow cases were lovingly folded in my great Aunt Tootie’s hope chest (the one she bought when she married the tugboat captain from Virginia that I brought all the way to Mexico with me). And I moved on to other projects.

I hemmed my work pants and jeans. This is an essential part of my wardrobe because, although most Mexican women are 2-3 inches shorter than me, all Mexican made women’s pants are 5-6 inches too long for me. So I hem. That saved me about $500 pesos. Then I made a bed skirt, curtains and blanket for my son’s room remodel. That saved me some money too. I went further and made new covers for our pillows and restuffed them, adding a pinch of lavender for freshness. It was like having new pillows and saved me $100 pesos per pillow.

Well, I suppose that saving money and making money are essentially the same thing. All in all, my treadle sewing machine was a good investment after all.

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I can see!–Getting prescription glasses in Mexico

You can't buy happinessbutyou can buy new glasses which is almost the same thing!

A few weeks ago I realized I couldn’t see a thing. My transition lens had snapped, crackled and well, not quite popped, but you get the picture. They were more than 6 years old and I use them every day, riding the moto in sun, rain, wind and occasional hail, so I guess I certainly got my money’s worth.

I really didn’t want to bother with new glasses. I dug out the pair circa 1990. Voila! Well, of course, I look like an owl, but I’m too old to worry about fashion, right? I started calling them my night-vision goggles because they were so clear I could practically see in the dark. And that was a problem. Yep, I can’t see to drive with them as they MAGNIFY the sun’s rays to the extent that I’m nearly driving with my eyes closed. Not safe.

So I started researching if I could repair my crackled glasses myself–maybe if I took the protective covering off? I tried fingernail polish remover. It didn’t work. The wonderful world of internet suggested Armour Glass Etching Cream.

Only I couldn’t find Armour Etch in any of our local stores. Amazon had some, but a bottle was more than 600 pesos. I only needed a little bit! My sister found some at a craft store and picked up a bottle for me. I’m waiting for it to arrive and do its magic.

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Meanwhile, I decided that a pair of prescription sunglasses was what I needed. I stopped at one optometrist the afternoon of the teacher meeting (See Mexican Educational Reform and Political Wrangling) that I missed so that I could make my lab appointment. (See All Around the Health Care Bush) I went in, looked around and knocked on the glass display case. There was no one there. I waited a bit while I perused the frame options.  Finally, the clerk dashed into the store with a bit of donut on her cheek. She had stepped out for a quick snack apparently.

I asked if it were possible to repair the glasses I already had. She hemmed and hawed and basically said no. I could replace the lenses if I like, but she couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t break the frames when they put the new ones in. Did I know what the prescription was for these lenses? No, well, then I would need an eye exam too. The exam would be 400 pesos and the two lenses would be 700 pesos, plus new frames because hey, the new lens insertion process might just break them. Ok, well, I’d think about it.

So I went to another place. The eye exam would be 250 pesos and I could go right in. The optometrist was about 70. His diploma (with picture) showed him at about age 20 and from the looks of the wood paneled office, that’s about the last time the office was remodeled. I swear his eye checker machine was used as a prop for the series Little House on the Prairie when Mary was going blind, but I suppose it was in working order.

He called out for his secretary to check the prescription of my glasses. That little procedure seemed to be top-secret, but there must have been a machine in the outer office that would determine the prescription of my lenses because less than 2 minutes later she was back with the prescription. Must be something the girl at the first place knew nothing about. The comparison of my eye exam and my lens prescription showed that my eyes had changed very little in the last 6 years. I didn’t need an eye exam after all. At least, it was only 250 pesos.

The elderly optometrist said that I would be a good candidate for a surgery that was not LASIK surgery to correct my eyesight. I certainly wasn’t interested in that! What if something went wrong and I ended up blind—that’s sorta permanent you know. Glasses would be fine.

The elderly optometrist also gave me a list of vitamins he said I should take–Resvit (a vitamin capsule), Blefa-ir for blefaritis (burning of the eyes), Luvit (couldn’t find any information on that), and Lagrilub (which is a company that specializes in pharmaceuticals).

I don’t know about you, but I have never had an eye exam that ended with a list of vitamins in the US. I was suspicious of this snake oil salesman tactic. Besides, my eyes only started burning when the optometrist put in the yellow burny drops to check who knows what in my eyes. I told the secretary (who was probably the wife) that I didn’t get paid until Monday (which was true) and that I only wanted to pay for the exam today. I picked out frames but didn’t pay for them–remember payday was still 3 days away. I made sure it would be ok to pay part on Monday and pay the other half on the next payday and it was. My glasses would be more than I make during one quincena (2 week pay period) That just made my day!

I went back on Monday afternoon, having already successfully had a blood draw in the morning (see All Around the Health Care Bush), and put down a deposit. The office girl (probably the daughter of the secretary and optometrist as she very clearly resembled them both) wrote me out a receipt and said the glasses would be there “en 8 dias” (one week) but that there was no problem in picking it up on the 15th. Yippee!!

Well, the place is only open on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and the 15th fell on a Tuesday this year, so I had to wait until the 16th to pick up my glasses. They were there all right and everything was hunky dory. I let her clean the lenses but didn’t wait for much else before snatching them up and putting them on. Oh HAPPY Day! I could see! I placed my magnifying night-vision goggles in the glass case and skipped back to my moto.

So, since I opted for the sunglasses rather than the transition lenses, I do have to change my glasses when I go inside, or when I’m outside and it’s dark, but overall, I’m pleased with this particular health care transaction.

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My new shades–because the future is so bright you know!

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All Around the Health Care Bush–the weasel chased the monkey

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Hospital Regional in Uriangato, Guanajuato

Monday found me up at the crack of dawn to make the 30-minute commute to the Regional. I arrived just after 6 am again and the waiting room was full–again. I asked the place check question and took my seat. Everyone queued up when directed and handed in our appointment slip (stamped of course) or the specimen sample. Then we waited. It was after 8 when finally my name was called. The blood draw took less than a minute. All in all, I had waited 12 hours for that blood draw. It doesn’t do any good to complain. That’s just the way it is–this time. Who knows what the procedure will be in 6 months when I come back?

I had no problem picking up the lab results a day before the actual doctor’s appointment. I just butted in line and handed the clerk my paper and she gave me the results. My TSH numbers were looking pretty good–so that dose modification Dr. J gave me last time around seems to have done the trick.

And the actual doctor appointment process has changed. I no longer had to arrive at the crack of dawn to get a ficha (number), but a mere 30 minutes before the scheduled appointment. I didn’t even have to check in at Archivos (archives) for them to pull my file. It was already waiting for me at the nurses desk where I checked in and had my blood pressure checked and weight recorded. The nurses sent me along to Consultorio 5–Medicina Internal (Internal Medicine Consulting Office 5) and I sat down. It was only a 2-hour wait from there–record time actually.

The new doctor seemed to be about 25 years old. I’m not sure he was a doctor, maybe just a body to fill the chair.  I was a little put off that Dr. J wasn’t there, but those with Seguro Popular (Beggars) can’t be choosers I suppose. Anyway, he verified that my TSH levels were good. He asked for my previous prescription sheet from Dr. J. Unfortunately, I had left that at home. He seemed put out. He asked what medication I had been taking. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember. He seemed even more put out. I asked if that information wasn’t recorded in my file there in front of him. That seemed to bother him too. He asked me what I would do if my file were lost. My Spanish failed me here and I understood that my file had actually been lost. Confused, I pointed out that my file was in front of him on the table. So he repeated his hypothetical sentence in the conditional tense. Oh, ok. I said that I still had my previous prescription page only had left it at home. Then the name of the medication hit me–Levothyroxine–and I garbled out what I thought might be the Mexican Spanish name. He understood enough to write it down and give me a new prescription.

He didn’t check for goiters, or any other thyroid like symptoms just sent me on my way. My appointment lasted a little less than 8 minutes. I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m so familiar with my condition because this dude didn’t seem to be.

So then, I headed to Archivos (Archives) to make an appointment for 4 months from now. Four months? Well, as our Seguro Popular policy is up for renewal in 6 months, I suppose that will get me, at least, one more prescription in case we are rejected. Then I went to the Farmacia (pharmacy) to pick up my 4 month supply of medication.

Apparently it was Hypothyroid day at the old Regional.  The two ladies in front of me were there for their own supply of Levothyroxine boxes.  One of the women, an older woman carefully dressed and made-up, was asking the pharmacist about the pills.  The pharmacist didn’t know anything.  The second woman jumped in the conversation and told woman #1 that she shouldn’t take the medicine with coffee or juice or food.  Well, I knew the coffee bit. (See 11 ways coffee can impact your thyroid) Apparently it interferes with the pill’s absorption.  So I chimed in too.  The older woman said that would explain why she still didn’t feel better.  I betcha that kid in the doctor’s seat didn’t mention any of that, the weasel.

Well, I suppose it’s like anything else in Mexico–you need to be your own advocate.

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