As a recap, there are four gyms within walking distance. I could take a bus/tram to a gym further away but that’s far from ideal. The first gym is a university gym and only for students, the other gym is really hard to get to and only allows a 1-year membership, the third gym has two floors with all the free weights on the second floor (only accessed by stairs). The fourth gym I had yet to check out when I wrote last. My mom and I went to AI-Fitness (all-inclusive), the last gym to look at, and with high hopes. Getting there was easy, mostly flat, and it felt promising. Unlike the other gyms, this was a stand-alone building with a parking lot, which was comforting because it reminded me of America. Upon first glance, this one-story gym looked clean and promising, so the first thing I do is ask if they speak English,
“of course“
that hasn’t been my experience but alright, the next question is about whether or not I can sign up for a few months or if I have to do an annual membership,
“yes, you can sign up for a month-by-month membership.“
Great, now it’s time to do a tour and I can do that on my own because I’m very familiar with the gym environment. After looking around enough, my heart drops at the sign of stairs going into a basement, and would you know it? The free weights are down there, along with the men’s bathroom. At this point, I’ve just given up the idea of having a good workout until I’m back in Colorado. I had a good look at the machines in the gym and they aren’t sufficient, so by default, McFit will be the gym I go to because although the gym is 2 floors, there’s an Edeka below with a bathroom and it’s closer. But that has to wait, because the next day (Thursday the 10th), I’m going to Frankfurt to spend the night and get my second stem cell secretome injection Friday Morning.
(interlude, I guess)
Before getting into all that, there are a few observations I want to discuss. A lot of people smoke, much more casually and it’s accepted in places like bars whereas smoking in American bars is illegal. Any progress made for healthier lungs has been reversed with all the secondhand smoking I’ve done here. I already breathed through my nose, but now I do it fervently with the absolutely tragic consequence of smelling the pungent, sticky trash (when there isn’t smoke in my face). About half of the time I’m outside, I’m looking down to make sure I don’t hit a bump or go over something like poop or gum, since this is conscious observation, what I’ve noticed is a lot of glass. A lot. I don’t live in the city city of Denver, so maybe it’s just as bad back home and I’m unaware, but I’m willing to bet that per capita there’s more glass here nested in the bricks/cobble that is all too well spotted with what used to be gum but now looks like someone was dripping tar. While I go along these gum & glass ridden sidewalks, instead of a Starbucks at every corner, it’s ice cream. There might be the perception that Europe, including Germany, is healthy because of all the walking and lack of an FDA equivalent that lacks itself, but with all the smoking and ice cream I think we’re about even.
Thursday we walked into the city center and through a very cool food festival complete with ceramic dishes, full-size meals, and everyone dressed like it’s at least 1 Michelin star. Too much commitment for me, thanks. I prefer food trucks. We weren’t there for the food anyway, we were only walking through to get to the main station and on the train. This time because I gave them the heads up there was no fuss, we met one of the DB (Deutsche Bahn) workers and then get on the train for a calm 2-hour ride to Frankfurt. Whenever I buy train tickets, I buy the option that is not only for the train itself, but for local transit in the beginning and final destination. When my mom was first here, she was on one of the local trains without a day pass or anything and when they came by to scan the passes, she got a ticket instead. As a good human, I follow the recency bias to the T and now get day passes or whatever is needed when we use local transit. However, when I was here with my brother for a week in June (for the liposuction), we used all modes of public transit available and no one checked – maybe we got lucky all week. But no, it wasn’t luck. When my mom and I got off the train in Frankfurt Thursday afternoon, we took the underground train to the city for dinner and 2 guys went around asking to see the transit pass, both of them skipped me. They saw me, and even said hi, but that’s it. They assume I have the disability card that gets me and one other person to help me a free ride (I should, but don’t have this). Lesson learned – travel with me ;).
The rest of the day Thursday was marked by nothing, we just found a restaurant, ate, and then went to the hotel to rest for the injection coming up. I was not nearly as nervous as I was the first time around, but to replace the anxiety came the anticipation that accompanies “knowing what’s coming.” It’s hard actually to truly remember any pain, for me at least. I know the liposuction was painful at times and wildly uncomfortable (I wasn’t fully sedated), but if I had to do it again, it would almost be like experiencing it for the first time. Thus was this injection, I knew it wouldn’t really hurt, and imagining a needle in my back hurt more, it was like the pain of someone tapping your forehead repeatedly, not quite the same as breaking an arm, but painful. To begin, I’m lying on my left side on the table in a gown with an open back. The most painful part came when my doctor made the marks on my back with what felt like a calligraphy pen, ouch. We joke around for a bit until it’s time to put the needle in, then I’m quiet. As the needle goes in, I only feel it on the skin level, nothing deeper, and it’s not bad at all. I can feel it the whole time so I try not to move because if the needle hits a nerve it could make my leg jump and make it all move more. Finding the spot to inject takes a little educated guesswork, the first time I got the injection, my doctor hadn’t got the right spot until the second attempt, this time it was on the first attempt. As she’s injecting the stem cell secretome, I can feel a cold rush on my left hip and thigh, similar to how you can feel hot tea in your body on a cold day. They took a picture and that was it. I went to lie down for an hour, then got up, washed off the orange stuff from my back (anti-bacteria stuff or whatever it’s called), and then we left. An honorable mention while on the topic of this injection, you may recall that I had my doubts about the first injection given that I have yet to feel any difference, the injection took 2 attempts, and the doctor asked me if I felt anything during the injection and I didn’t (I took this as a bad sign), well, I asked about this. I asked if it’s even possible for an injection to “miss the mark,” the answer is no and that’s great, except now there’s no scapegoat for why I don’t feel anything yet. Worry not, I will continue to justify why I don’t feel anything with any and all reasoning I can find to keep my hopes up.
As we now know, I take risks. When getting underground for the train, there are two flights of stairs & two escalators. The first one leads down to a platform that’s useless for most of us, and then the next escalator leads down to the train platform. Upon arrival at the main entrance at the ground level, the down escalator was working but not the one back up. Not a problem because I’m going down and we do just that. It’s a short short distance to the next escalator and finally, I’m met with bad luck, the second down escalator isn’t working, and I can’t go back up. This royally sucks, but it’s really not that bad since going downstairs is fairly easy. Without hesitation, I go down the stairs with my mom behind me and a random guy that came to help although not much help was needed. It’s been worse actually. There was one time when I was at university in the electrical engineering building and the elevators are known to stop working, so sure enough they did. It was late at night and I was on floor 6. I went down all of them, on my own. I broke a sweat and my arms were a little sore from grabbing the handrail with intent, but it was manageable. Nothing beats the determination of a university student who just wants to go home after being on campus all day.
(Interlude again? Or whatever)
One of the most important things that happened was getting an email from Nils (at Cyberdyne) about a physiotherapy place. I had previously asked him if he or anyone at Cyberdyne knew of someplace I could go for physiotherapy because it’s tough to find it here. It seems different from how it is in America because some places, when looking through their webpage, seemed more like a beefed-up personal trainer. Whatever it is, none of the places I found seemed equipped to help me move my legs – I don’t care how, but I want them to get some movement. Nils, hero of the day, sent me an email about a place that has SCI experience and that they’re available on the 28th, I’m guessing he talked to them about me or something because his email was informed in that way. I got a doctor’s note and emailed them the following Monday (2 days ago as I write this), I haven’t heard back but I’m hoping the 28th will still work. The day after getting that email from Nils, hero of the week, I get another email from him that says there’s a new thing they could try: instead of connecting the electrodes to my legs to give the exoskeleton a signal to move, we connect the electrodes to my ARMS. I would do a sort of swimming motion with my arms and have the exoskeleton move, trippy. We scheduled to do this next week but I got an email today that one of them will be on vacation, so it’s pushed out. Obviously I’m happy, I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth and wish therapy were sooner. But I do wish it were sooner, it’s like riding a snail into battle.
After the whole escalator ordeal, we went to the Frankfurt main station, we had the train back to Bochum later but went earlier to pay for that ticket my mom got a few weeks ago. We went to the information desk and they pointed us to another information area, and they pointed us to some building outside of the station. It became frustrating that we couldn’t just pay for the ticket. It was useless looking at the little card they gave us with a small picture of a map to show where the building is, we walked way too much and couldn’t find it. I scanned the QR code on the card to find out I could pay online the whole time, so that’s what I did. We got some food and then came back just in time for the train. The Frankfurt main hbf is a nice big station and looks pretty cool, but it smells like piss, it’s a bad first impression for anyone coming to Frankfurt by train.
Saturday and Sunday were especially unspecial, not much happened. We went to the gym Saturday to sign up but no one was there, so we went back out into the city but it started raining. Not the light rain, but rain you could have a shower in. We found our way to TK Maxx, bought some body wash and toiletries, then went out to eat. It was fairly warm despite the rain, so we found a place to sit outside and eat. The rain had stopped and I decided it was time to get a few more clothes, my decision was influenced by an upcoming date on Monday and I didn’t want to wear a gym shirt that says “STEEL” or a work shirt.
Monday was the day of the gym, finally. We went in, found the woman working there, and said we want to do a membership for a few months. Unfortunately, after all the turmoil of choosing this gym, since it’s the least inaccessible, a German bank account is required to sign up. Of course, I don’t have one and I can’t get one, so she messaged her manager to ask about what other forms of payment would be accepted, so I just stayed quiet, off my phone, and waited. In situations like these, I find it best to be quiet and let them go through the stages of thought. Eventually, the best thing she could do was give us a free month, but no more. Even though the next week I’ll be gone doing a little traveling, I didn’t want to delay and it’s not on me to negotiate when this free month starts. In negotiations or anything of the sort, the one who cares the least has the advantage.
So, I had a quick workout, went back home to shower, and then back out to a cat cafe. It reminded me of the cat cafe in Appleton, Wisconsin. In Germany we say Katzentempel, and it’s vegan, so I had to choose between fake meat, veggies, or a smoothie bowl. You should know what I chose. Later that night I called my brother to talk. It’s not surprising how important socializing is, but it is surprising to feel it for yourself. Here in Germany, there is no small talk, there is no chatting to people, I just go about my business and don’t talk unless it’s with my mom. So, it was nice to talk to someone I could land a few good jokes with and talk at a depth I haven’t been able to, it helps that my brother and I are very similar.
Tuesday and Wednesday happened but only if you measure time by the calendar and not by how you feel. The two days collective felt like a few hours, so I’m skipping these for brevity, since that’s obviously what I’m going for here.
Going to the stadium (Thursday):
I shower and get ready just in time for when Pierre came to pick me up. He had messaged me the day before asking if I wanted to go back to the Veltins stadium (where we saw Shalke 04 play) for a stadium tour. The tour is a sort of warm-up to a little ceremony for a volunteering group his daughter is part of. It’s just him and I in the car, his daughter is taking the transit to the stadium with a friend, so I employed my best non-boring small talk. Every so often one of us would get stuck in translation but it was casual talk that allowed me to also observe where we were. There aren’t as many round-a-bouts as I expected and it feels like all the cars are the same – smaller, hatchback, and kind of ugly. In between the smell of smoke, I picked up a smell that I couldn’t quite pinpoint, so I focused on it for a few minutes until it came to me – crayons, it smelled like the waxy paper of crayons. It took a while to notice, but Pierre and I had somehow matched with purple shirts, dark blue jeans, and Adidas sneakers. This is a crazy coincidence because I only have four shirts. We got to the stadium 45 minutes early and walked around – he smoked and I only breathed out of my nose. When the time came, we went into the little museum that showcased the home teams’s trophies and history. It was hard not to look at the dates and think of WWII. More and more people came in and they were mostly girls, I guess the volunteering has predominately girls (high school age). Nothing about it except that it put me in an awkward demographic of being the only person there that’s not a parent and 7-9 years older than all the kids. Not to mention I was the only one there who didn’t understand anything that was being said. Mac Miller once said ” It’s more when I’m standin’ in crowds that I’m feelin’ the most on my own,” nothing describes it better. I’m normally extroverted, but I’ve learned now that being extroverted is only possible if there’s a society you can extro your vert upon. After going through the little museum and Pierre explaining to me the history and such (he’s a huge soccer fan), the whole crowd of kids/parents split into two tour groups. We went out to the spot where the field was and Pierre gave the translation that the field (on tracks to go in and out of the stadium) was like 1.5 or 2 meters thick full of soil, electrical, and mechanical components weighing an easy 11k tons. We then went inside to see the stadium and whatever else, I’ve never been on a tour where I can’t understand anything, so I just have to look around on my own until Pierre gives me the cliff notes. We got to the part of the tour where there are only stairs to go down to the actual arena floor, I knew there would be some stairs but not this many. It was uncomfortable because at the bottom of the stairs were all the kids that would be watching some random American get carried down and then back up. I didn’t care enough since it was not a tour for me, I don’t even like soccer that much, and I didn’t want to have these guys carry me up and down 2 sets of stairs. So, I stayed up and went into the conference room where the players are up on a podium table with microphones and such. The other tour group was there so I thought I would join them for wherever they go. They began to leave and headed downstairs. Fine by me, I get to do my own thing now. I stayed in the conference room for a while thinking I would just stay there, then two girls from the group came back in and asked me to take a picture of them up at the conference table. I only knew this is what they said because they gave me a phone with the camera open and made some hand gestures. I didn’t know anything they actually said, but I tried to be quiet or only say something in German so they don’t think I’m not-German (just for fun). I take the picture and have the most legitimate exchange in German that I’ve had:
Danke (them)
Bitte (me)
Tchüss! (Both)
I then proceeded to sneak around the whole stadium, going to the upper floors where the box offices are (private viewing rooms for the game, usually with catered food), I checked all the doors but they were all locked. Just going into places that look like I normally wouldn’t be allowed such as the kitchen and whatever. It was fun to feel rebellious. By luck, I went back down to the conference and found my original tour group. They were just leaving to go to the ceremony. Good timing.
We got to the ceremony room, it was just a fancy area with some tables for the ~50 of us, a little podium for speakers, and the catering team that works at the stadium complete with their work uniforms – an Addidas jersey. We all know how boring a ceremony can be when people speaking get caught up with what they want to say instead of what people want to hear (the latter is much more concise), there is another level. I did not understand anything, and multiple people spoke for a total of 1 hour or more. The mayor of Gelsenkirchen was there, which is very cool, she was late because her house, as well as others, had flooded the night before from the rain that was so powerful it would make you just watch it from your balcony in awe. Without hearing her, I could feel the politician in the way she spoke and had the room a little more captured (or maybe I imagined this, I was very sleepy). At some point, I smelled curry and I was not surprised given my experience of finding curry offered everywhere. This inclination was confirmed when I went to the bathroom and could still hear the woman talking through a speaker in the bathroom. I pulled out my phone and tried to translate what I was hearing and sure enough “Today we have salad, bread, and currywurst. Self-serve…” It turned out to be curry ketchup (a real thing in bottles at the store) with chopped-up… hot dog things? Didn’t seem like a proper bratwurst, probably not my best introduction to currywurst. After eating, I awkwardly said some form of goodbye to a few people and then Pierre dropped me off. It was only when I got into the Airbnb that I realized I left my phone in his car.
The next day, I left for a little trip around Europe.
PS: I read a lot of biographies or non-fiction, and it’s amazing how many quotes there are. Sometimes the biography will use excerpts from someone’s journal, and whoever wrote the journal had written many parts of a conversation on such and such day. I definitely can’t do that unless I write it down at the exact moment, and even then it might not be verbatim. So I think all those quotes are inexact. It’s never been about the words anyway, it’s about how you feel that’s remembered.
PPS: I still don’t notice any difference, which is beginning to concern me.
Wheelchair DNA 