The volcanic ash plume is hovering somewhere above, my cat has gone blind and spends her days calling for me - this evening I found her stuck in the bookshelves below the Times Atlas of the World about to be crushed. She silently struggled to escape with her blind face turned towards the wall.
I spent last week in hospital no 4. My room mate was an elderly Turkish woman in much pain who spent her day and most of the night reading the Quran and some other holy book and praying every hour. Her German was poor but we found a way to communicate and she told me about her pilgrimage to Mecca and shared the delicious Turkish food that her visitors had delivered. Her cellphone ring tone was James Brown belting out "I feel good".
The hospital: doctors who understood my symptoms, careful and thourough examinations - a change of medication. Very detailed instructions and guidelines. Patience once again. My new friend is called methotrexate. We are only starting to get to know each other.
The chief doctor does not think I have Cogan's, but "only" autoimmune vasculitis and my ears were once again fine.
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