Just another day at the office

It’s Wednesday lunchtime and I head out with husband for a bite to eat. Suddenly he says he feels strange and needs to walk slowly. I ask if we should go back, but no he insists he wants to eat out. We sit down at a table. Luckily he has an Apple Watch and he starts taking ECGs. His heart rate is way too high, but he still manages to gobble down his pasta. He says he feels dizzy. We rush out of the café and head back to work. 

At this stage I’m still not sure how concerned I ought to be. After all, he is a man and a) communicating how he feels is not one of his strengths and b) he might be exaggerating. 

‘What should I do?’ he asks.

‘I think you need to lie down and see a doctor ASAP,’ I reply. 

We speak to two doctor friends on the phone and ask for advice. The response is unanimous: call 112. It's probably not a heart attack, but there is a risk he might faint.

Husband hesitates: ‘I’m just going to wait for it to go away.’ 

‘No, we are calling the emergency services.’ 

First we hear a message in German and in English asking us to hold the line. Then we speak to a woman. The first thing she asks is: ‘Where is the emergency?’. We explain the situation and she says she will send someone straight away. The ambulance turns up with flashing lights and I wave for it to stop. Two men come out: one is young, has blue eyes and a friendly face, the other one looks like Spud out of Trainspotting. I decide to address young guy, as Spud is rather intimidating.

Husband is taken into ambulance for various checks, or so I assume, while I’m left outside to pace the pavement. There’s a nasty wind blowing and I’m feeling cold. I wrap my scarf tightly around my neck and pull my woolly hat down over my ears. Various people walk by. There’s a man talking and gesticulating on the phone in Turkish; he seems rather agitated. On the pavement opposite another man is taking pictures of a parked white van, while a woman in a headscarf supervises. 

Meanwhile, I get a call from eleven-year-old to say he is going home from school. I try to keep a cheerful tone and ask him to call me as soon as he gets home, because I’m still at work (actually I’m just outside work, but I don’t want to worry him). I stress several times that he must keep his phone on in case I need to reach him.

The ambulance starts shaking and young guy comes out without saying a word. He then disappears into the ambulance for several more minutes. I continue to pace the pavement. Eleven-year-old calls back after twenty minutes to say he is home and I stress once again that he must leave his phone on.

After what seems like forever, young guy appears and asks if I’m the Lebensgefährtin, which literally translates as “life companion”. Somehow this word reminds me of an imprisonment sentence: ‘What did you get?’ ‘Life’.

Anyway, having confirmed who I am – So you’re the wife – he informs me that there is indeed something wrong with the heart, but it’s not life-threatening. A cardiologist is on his way, and as soon as he arrives, they will drive my husband to the hospital. A second ambulance with blue lights shows up and two men walk out looking like Ghostbusters. They are also swallowed up by the first ambulance, which by now I suspect is not really an ambulance but a black hole. 

Finally, the first two paramedics come out and tell me the name of the hospital, which I've never heard of. Young guy repeats it and then Spud asks if I’m a work colleague. 

‘There’s not much point in going there straight away though, you’ll be hanging around for hours,’ he adds.

By now I'm starting to feel desperate and I don't know what to do. If we had grandparents nearby I would ask them to look after eleven-year-old. I have a quick consultation with my colleagues, who are also rather worried. I decide to go home and call an Uber. I wait once again in the cold. My driver is five minutes away. While I follow his progress on the app, I learn that his name is Bobby and apparently he is “great at conversation”. In the 50 minutes it takes him to drive me home, Bobby doesn’t say a word, except for ‘Hi’ when I say hello and when I ask:

‘Weren’t we here a few minutes ago?’ 

To which Bobby replies: ‘The sat nav didn’t know the road was closed.’ 

Anyway I’m not in a chatty mood myself, as I have other things on my mind, such as, is my husband having a heart attack?, what am I going to do about my son?, am I having a heart attack? and I should wear warmer clothes. Bobby doesn’t seem to have the heating on and my hands are still icy.

I'm almost home when I receive a text from husband: 

“All better. Just waiting for results.”

I start breathing again. 

A few minutes later: 

“Feeling normal now.”

“So it’s not a heart attack?”

“No.”

He uses some medical term I've never heard of.

The strange feelings in my body are starting to disappear so I'm not having a heart attack either.

About an hour later:

“I’m coming home. I feel fine and I don’t need picking up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I finally start to relax when a thought crosses my mind: I gave Spud my phone number so that they could keep me posted. I never got a call from Spud, and I hope he deletes my number. Moreover, I hope I never need Spud's help again. 

So all's well that ends well and I can laugh about it now, but I can assure you it wasn't funny at the time. In case you ever have a rapid heart rate while resting that doesn't go away, call the doctor or go to the hospital.

*Photo by Jonas Augustin on Unsplash

Solidarity with Ukraine

Fifteen months ago, I wrote about ways to show solidarity during the Covid-induced lockdown. Although the pandemic is still not over after more than two years, a new humanitarian crisis of staggering proportions has hit Europe. Since the Russian invasion of Ukraine on 24 February, every day has brought tragic news of death and devastation. The pictures, videos and reports from Ukraine are so disturbing that after a while I, like many others, have to turn off the radio, switch off the telly or close my computer because I can’t bear to listen or watch any more. It’s truly horrendous. In the face of such atrocities, it’s normal to feel powerless, but there are things we can do to express solidarity with Ukrainian people.

Peace demonstrations 

People all over the world have recently taken to the streets to show their support for Ukraine. In Berlin there was a huge demonstration two weeks ago, when over 100,000 protesters filled the Straße des 17. Juni, the large road between the Brandenburg Gate and the Siegessäule (Victory Column). It was the biggest peace demonstration since the war in Iraq. Yesterday  several demonstrations were held across German cities. Once again thousands of ordinary citizens took to the streets to demand an end to the war. It may feel like a drop in the ocean, but it is important to make our voices heard. It also helps those protesting to see the many different faces of strangers who also feel strongly against the war.

A reception centre for refugees at Berlin Hauptbahnhof 

While thousands of people were marching wearing face masks and carrying stop-the-war banners from Alexander Platz to the heart of the Tiergarten, just a few kilometres away on the other side of the river Spree thousands of refugees were arriving by train from Poland. Berlin central station has been the main arrival point in Germany for refugees fleeing the war in Ukraine. A welcome centre has been set up, where volunteers have been handing out food and beverages and helping people (mostly women and children) to find accommodation. 

Ordinary Berliners have shown up at the station holding signs offering beds in their homes. A friend of mine who has been volunteering at Hauptbahnhof told me of a French school girl who is currently on an exchange programme in Berlin. After spending the night volunteering at the train station, she left the following morning to go to school. Yesterday walking around the train station there was an incredible mix of people: police officers, volunteers, refugees, peace demonstrators, as well as ordinary travellers and holiday makers. Most of these people are united by a spirit of solidarity, but sadly there have also been reports of men harassing young Ukrainian women. The police have been warning about possible human trafficking. For more information about how to help refugees in Berlin click on the link of the official Berlin website.

Donate to charities

There are plenty of charities who provide humanitarian relief in Ukraine and in neighbouring countries. Donating to any one of these organizations will help. There are the well-known charities, such as, Save the Children, Unicef, Red Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières, UNHCR, the World Food Programme (ShareTheMeal). You can also support local charities, such as, Sunflower of Peace, which has been fundraising first aid medical backpacks, United Help Ukraine, which provides medical supplies and humanitarian aid, Voices of Children, which helps children affected by war. You can also support local journalists by donating to English-language news outlets based in the country, such as Kyiv Independent and the New Voice of Ukraine.

Sign a petition

There are several petitions circulating on the internet demanding an end to the war and putting pressure on politicians to do more. For instance, Avaaz has launched a petition called “$top fuelling Putin’s war!” which has been signed by over 2 million people worldwide. After signing a petition try to spread the word though Twitter and other social media.

Meanwhile in Russia

Let’s not forget the courage of protestors in Russia, who risk up to 15 years in jail if they speak out against the war. Almost 15,000 Russian demonstrators have been arrested since the invasion of Ukraine. One woman in Russia was recently arrested for holding up a blank sign, while another woman was detained for holding a sign saying “two words” in Russian. These brave protestors recently reminded me of a book by Hans Fallada, called Alone in Berlin (a few years ago it was made into a film with Daniel Brühl, Emma Thompson and Brendan Gleeson). If you haven’t yet read the book, I would recommend it. It is based on real events and tells the story of a couple living in Berlin during World War II. After their son is killed, the couple start a protest against the Nazi regime by leaving anonymous postcards attacking Hitler across the city. This silent campaign comes to the attention of the Gestapo and a cat-and-mouse chase begins. It is a powerful novel and seems more topical than ever.

Do you miss travelling?

Travelling in Covid (and post-Brexit) times is challenging

We all have our tales of travel mishaps: delays, cancellations, technical problems, strikes, lost luggage, adverse weather conditions... the list is endless. Since the start of the Covid pandemic, travelling has entered a whole new stressful dimension, raising all sorts of questions, such as: 

What are the travel entry requirements? Do I need to take a test before departure? Do I need a test on arrival? Is an antigen rapid test (i.e., lateral flow) sufficient or do I need a PCR test? What does fully vaccinated mean? Which vaccines are accepted? Do I need a booster jab? Will I need to isolate on arrival? What are the rules for children? Do I need to fill out a form? Do I need a digital passenger locator form or a different sort of form? What kind of mask do I need to wear? Is an FFP2 mask required?

Welcome to the world of travelling during Covid times. And even if you think you may have found the answers to those questions, please bear in mind that travel rules change all the time, often without warning. This could be due to several reasons, e.g., a sudden rise in Covid cases or the emergence of a new variant or simply the government changing its mind. And once you get to your destination, make sure you comply with the country’s Covid restrictions, which by the way change all the time as well.

Italy in June

My family didn’t do much travelling in 2020 for obvious reasons. However, with the arrival of vaccines and, as we hadn’t seen some family members for over two years, we decided to be more adventurous in 2021. We finally got to see the “new” BER airport for the first time in June 2021, when we travelled to Italy to visit my parents. I’m afraid to say it wasn’t love at first sight. There was an air traffic control strike in Italy that day, so Ryanair changed all its flight times. The problem was that the airport screens were still showing the original times, so we witnessed scenes of panic as passengers arrived at the airport thinking that they had missed their flights. The queues for check-in and security were so long that we almost did miss our flight. Luckily it was delayed.

Sweden in September

In September we visited our relatives in the south of Sweden. It all went well on the way there. The ferry from the port of Sassnitz in northern Germany left on time and, as we were vaccinated, we didn’t need to take any Covid tests, while our son had taken a self-test at school that morning. However, on the way back, one of the ferry engines broke down so the whole journey took much longer than expected and we ended up arriving in Berlin in the early hours of the morning after driving through the night in treacherous weather conditions. At least this particular problem wasn’t Covid related.

England in October

In October we flew to Gatwick airport to visit my grandmother for the first time in two years. We left Berlin on the first day of the school autumn break. Luckily, we were booked on the late afternoon flight, and we avoided the morning mayhem (queues so long that passengers missed their flights). Everything was going smoothly until we reached border control. I always use my UK passport when travelling to the UK, but this was my first time travelling to the UK under the new Brexit rules. The immigration officer took my passport and gave me a quizzical look and said something about needing to stamp it because the UK is no longer a member of the EU. After a few seconds of panic, I exclaimed: “But I’m Italian” and dutifully produced my Italian ID card. The man looked relieved. “That’s more like it” he said or something to that effect in German. I spent the rest of my time at the airport wondering whether they would let me back into the country. At that point I still didn’t have an Italian passport, but I do now. Once we arrived in England, we spent a fortune on our Day 2 PCR tests, as two out of three tests initially showed up as inconclusive, so we ended up taking and paying over £200 for two additional tests at a testing facility in a car park near Gatwick airport. When we flew back to Germany, our 9-year-old son had to isolate at home for five days as we were returning from a high-risk Covid area, and he wasn’t vaccinated. At that point vaccines for children under 12 hadn’t yet been approved in the EU. 

Italy in December

Having spent Christmas on our own in Berlin in 2020, we decided we would try to fly to Italy to spend Christmas with my parents in 2021. It took me over two hours to sort out the necessary paperwork and book the required Covid tests. On Christmas Eve we arrived at BER airport three hours before departure. We weren’t going to take any chances this time and we checked in with plenty of time to spare. Luckily, we all tested negative on the day before the flight and at the airport in Palermo. We had planned to stay in Italy for ten days, but on 30 December the Robert Koch Institute in Germany announced that Italy would become a high-risk area on 1 January 2022. What did that mean? We started reading through all the rules and regulations and discovered that our son would again need to self-isolate for five days in Germany because he wasn’t fully vaccinated, missing a whole week of school. We quickly changed our flight to the one leaving the following morning, New Year’s Eve. Suddenly we needed to pack and get our son tested that same afternoon. On the morning of 31 December, we boarded the plane to Berlin, only to be told that there was a technical problem and were bussed back to the terminal. We ended up waiting for seven hours at the airport in Palermo for a substitute plane to arrive. We eventually landed in Berlin at 8 pm on New Year’s Eve, four hours before the new rules came into effect. So our son avoided isolation, but we were exhausted by the time we got home and didn’t feel too much like celebrating the New Year. 

Travelling in Covid times is a nightmare, even if you’re tennis star Novak Djokovic. As you probably know, he recently spent four days in a detention centre in Australia because of doubts over his visa and he still faces the threat of deportation from the country.  Travel requirements are complicated and rules may even change while you are mid-flight. Needless to say, I won’t be planning any more trips abroad for a while.