I wonder what Lisbon would be like without ...

23

In some of our previous posts, we’ve mentioned that things aren’t ideal. We said we’re waiting until February to revisit our decision to move. We referred to life in Lisbon as being a roller coaster. We mentioned the language barrier. We wrote our story of getting TV like it was a “ha, isn’t that funny?” adventure. And maybe some day we’ll see it that way.

But we don’t really say why things aren’t all rainbows and unicorns.

We advertise honesty in our “what this newsletter is about” section; we promise to share the “nitty-gritty, down and dirty truth.”

Here’s a piece of that truth: we haven’t been writing the whole truth.

It’s time for that to change.

Recently, Amy scrawled the following on a scrap of paper:

I wonder what Lisbon would be like without

• depression

• pain

• worrying about doctors

• worrying about $

The truth is we’re facing some serious headwinds.

That Amy has chronic migraines is not news to anyone who knows her. What most don’t – can’t – know is there isn't a day without some level of pain. A good day is one where she just has to lie down for a little while. One where she can still get out, move around, interact with people. We’ve had some of those good days here; we have.

And we’ve had plenty of pretty sh*tty ones, too; far more than in the US.

Also, both of us are experiencing episodes of depression, rage, and general questioning of every decision we’ve made in the last nine months. We’re down on ourselves and struggling emotionally day to day, hour to hour. For Amy, a medication change at the time of the move resulted in what we’re calling “cloud,” the don’t-get-out-of-bed type of depression. It will improve with time and the correct prescription, but the interim isn’t a pleasant place to be.

It took Amy a decade to assemble a group of doctors in St. Louis she felt comfortable with. To start from scratch now is harder than we anticipated.

Amy has lost a lot of hearing in her left ear. When she’s talking to someone who is wearing a mask, speaking with an accent, and unable to choose words in their second or third language as precisely as they probably can in their first, no conversation is likely to go smoothly. When that conversation is about the treatment of her chronic migraines, it’s a recipe for miscommunication, fear, and anxiety. Scott has started accompanying her to her doctors to help with this. At a recent neurologist appointment, Amy was happy to have a witness for the following exchange:

Doc: You are taking too much Tylenol, you need to stop.

Amy: So what am I supposed to do when I’m in pain, just suffer?

Doc: Yes.

Yep, this is taken out of context. No, it’s not the entire story. But spending 98€ to be told to suffer did not help the morale.

Later that same day, we visited an orthodontist.¹ After an hour of a sales pitch for the doctor’s proprietary “protocol,” we had a chance to ask what that protocol involves. Turns out, the first thing she’d do is remove Amy’s braces. Um. No. The goal was to find someone who can finish the work already underway not flush it down the loo. 150€, 90 wasted minutes, and two months spent waiting for the appointment later, we're back to the drawing board (and once we factor in the three months and counting of stagnation on Amy's mouth, we're losing ground).

Oh, and remember all that delicious bread we mentioned? After an exhaustive, time-consuming reading of many ingredients lists (none of which are in English), it turns out most loaves contain one or more dairy products. Whey powder in yeast bread? Why? And it turns out dairy is also hiding in other unexpected places, not just bread.

No wonder Scott has been producing more methane than a pig farm and running through half a roll of toilet paper in one sitting (yes, the rolls are small, but still).

(Before you ask, we do have a bidet. It's on the right.

Getting to it requires considerable disrobing and some proficiency with gymnastics. And if anyone has mastered the art of maneuvering both body and faucet so the water flows to the precise location where it's needed, feel free to make us a demonstration video.)

Suffice it to say that Scott has severely restricted his diet. It’s great for the soul to be surrounded by amazing food that’s suddenly and involuntarily off limits.

We see the Facebook posts from everyone else who’s made this move. They all seem to have seamlessly adjusted to life in paradise Portugal. On the rare occasion someone expresses that they’re experiencing challenges, their experiences are denied by those who are sailing happily along. We’re glad it’s working out for so many people. It also makes us wonder what’s wrong with us.

We've been looking for therapists - two separate sagas in their own right. We’ve finally found people who might work.

With luck, we'll actually be able to see them soon. With luck, we’ll each make a good connection with someone who can help.

We’re a couple of days shy of 3 months here, which is not enough time to solve these issues. And the end of the classic “honeymoon phase.”

So there's a bit more of our nitty-gritty, down and dirty truth. As much of it as we can fit into a (semi-)reasonable word count.

That's all for now.

Love from Lisbon,

Scott and Amy

1. Amy has been wearing braces for two years. The expectation is her migraines will improve once her jaw is properly aligned. Her amazing St. Louis orthodontist was nervous to hear she’d be moving overseas with a year to go before his work was done.