While we were in Turkey, nicknames were being tossed around, they were all Smurf themed. Smurf's seemed to be popular there, seeing them in advertising and for mascots for charity donation boxes. Anyway, there was Disco Smurf and Disgusting Smurf, I was deemed Sexy Smurf and Mark was Broken Smurf. How did I go from having the nickname of "Sexy Smurf" to "Little Debbie Bloody Pee Pants" in a matter of weeks? Here is my tale of the super scenic Leoben emergency room and the Austrian health system and possibly crosses way over the TMI line as I, unlike Mark, am not as liberal talking about bodily functions and fluids. I had devised an excellent plan for today the night before. I would rent a bike from the hotel we were staying at and set off on one the many marked trails around the area. The weather was going to be beautiful and the green hills and snow capped Alps surrounding this idyllic and picturesque valley were beaconing me to be outside as much as possible. What a perfect way to take in the city of Leoben than by bicycle! Hindsight is 20/20 right. After this incident, the days preceding made a little more sense. I had never had a urinary tract infection before, I only had second hand knowledge of what the symptoms were and how they manifested themselves. I had only thought I had been consuming such vast quantities of liquid during the day that the urgent need to wake several times a night was easily explained away. This trend continued through the first night we were in Austria, only with greater frequency and much greater urgency. I would get up, in the dark, and take care of business with the lights out. I didn't want to disturb Mark. I think maybe at six in the morning I had accidentally turned on the bathroom light. It was on this tenth visit that I saw on the German style platform toilet where you can conveniently examine your deposit (remind me to discuss the toilet technologies we've been encountering) and saw the aforementioned bloody pee. I then started paying very close attention to what was going on in the bathroom. I returned to bed and heard Mark stir, "are you awake?" I whispered, "hmmph, yes," he mumbled, "I think I may be having some issues," this got his attention as I explained the situation, "how do you know it might be an infection?" he asked, "I'm peeing blood," "Oh." The hotel hostess was very helpful, giving me directions to a local private doctor. Here, trying to explain my symptoms to non-English speaking nurses and then to a doctor who mostly understood me, I produced a sample. The reaction of the doctor was an alarming and succinct, "Much blood. Ambulanz." as he pointed to the hospital on the map. All I wanted was to go on a bike ride today and I ended up trapped inside the darkest ER ever. I took my slip of paper labeled "urgent" from the doctor to the Urology Ambulanz and was given a number, #76 around 8:00 am. The counter was on #65 for so long I was starting to think that it was broken and they had been calling out numbers without me realizing it. But finally, it changed, after almost an hour. This was going to be a LONG wait. There was a flurry of activity where the charge nurses were getting information and further samples from all the waiting patients. I thought it looked promising, like things would be moving soon. But no. I was texting Mark throughout the morning. Giving updates on the counter progress and mentioning how starving I was. Did I mention we didn't have breakfast this morning? I was so concerned and honestly thought it would be a short visit to the first doctor to get a prescription for antibiotics that we would have time to go back to the hotel and have breakfast before Mark went to work and I could rent my bike. Mark came to my rescue with a sandwich, cashews and smoothie at 12:30. Just as we finished up eating, the counter jumped ahead to #78, "Hey! They're skipping over me!" number ticket in hand I ran to the door waving back to Mark and leaving him quite abruptly, "I have to go!" I was not going to be passed over after hours of waiting. Inside the examining room I proceeded to have the strangest physical exam ever. Well, mostly it was strange because the doctor and nurse were chattering on and laughing in German, they could have been talking about the latest episode of a sitcom telling jokes while my bladder and kidneys were being ultra-sounded, or while the nurse very quickly sneaked in a catheter for anther test. The doctor turned to me, "everything is okay, bladder, kidneys, okay." He sat me down, handed me a prescription for an antibiotic and told me in his broken English to, "drink lots. lots and lots." Which the written instructions translated to 3 liters of water a day. After being escorted to the payment office, lest I try to slip out without paying, I finally made it out of there by 2:00 in the afternoon. I needed to wait for the pharmacy to open at 2:30. All I wanted to do today was take a bike ride and this is what I get. I spent the rest of the afternoon in a cafe, I was tired, having spent most of the night awake and trying to pee blood. I just waited for Mark to be done for the day and who officially so designated me as "Little Debbie Bloody Pee Pants" There is absolutely nothing sexy about that.