Accessibility notes by a visitor to Iceland’s awesome public pools with hints for proper locker room & swim protocol

Icelanders expect you to follow the letter of their law when going for a swim: wash, naked, with soap before entering a public pool or hot tub.

I’m shocked by how many Americans post comments about washing first not being required at home. Actually, at my local YMCA in New England, a sign clearly states that “soap showers are required” before entering the pool.

It’s just that, at American pools, nobody enforces the law.

We have laws against jaywalking, too, but you’d never know it in most cities based upon enforcement.

Also, our instructional posters are plain English language ones without the helpful “red zone” graphics employed in Iceland.

Cell phone or camera use isn’t allowed in locker rooms thank God! so I’ll point you to others’ mysteriously captured photos for illustrations. Follow the links to pool etiquette articles, below.

Picture the typical men’s room sign “guy” infographic, then add big red circles glowing around head, armpits, groin, hands, and feet. Those are the parts it is mandatory to wash with soap before entering an Icelandic public swimming pool or hot tub.

I’m reinventing the wheel here, but it bears repeating again! since every Icelander seems to know that Americans (and Brits) arrive unprepared for proper Icelandic pool protocol. I read about a dozen “how to use a public pool in Iceland” posts myself, and yet, here I am reiterating much of the same advice.

IHeartReykjavik.net posted my favorite for average travelers (make sure to read some of the 133+ comments); IcelandWithKids.com is also very thorough, especially with information for families and parents traveling with children.

Those posts helped me, so I hope to offer the same to another reader. Good travelers respect the places that they visit by following the rules.

Access for visitors with mild physical impairments to Icelandic pools

Another, perhaps less common, thing I want to address is accessibility in Icelandic public pool locker rooms.

I did find one blogger who writes about access from the perspective of a wheelchair user, but he only seemed to visit the swanky Blue Lagoon spa. For over $40 per person, it darn well better be fully accessible!

I was looking for an affordable, family-oriented experience more akin to what average Icelanders might enjoy with their own kids.

Also, my needs are far less intensive than those of a pool user who requires a lift (hoist) to access the water. I have arthritis and chronic pain due to an autoimmune condition. My accessibility needs are variable, but often minimal, and most relate to twisting and pushing with the hands.

Sometimes, however, hip or knee joint stiffness makes it hard for me to reach my own feet. Heck, I couldn’t get my arms high enough overhead (shoulder stiffness) for the requisite TSA scan when I departed from Boston the night before I visited my first Icelandic pool.

Some days, aside from morning stiffness in my fingers, I bend like a healthy person; other days, not so much. This is a big part of what drew me to the famous geothermal hot pots of Iceland during even a brief stopover.

When my joints are stiff, I’m also more prone to balance issues and potentially falling. My limbs don’t always respond the way I’m expecting to the commands sent from my brain.

I had questions before my first visit to a public pool in Iceland to which I couldn’t find answers online. I’ll try to enlighten those of you with similar concerns according to my own experience as an English speaking tourist with about two weeks’ experience in that country.

Continue reading

When I won’t give up my seat on a plane to a stranger’s child

It’s not all that uncommon for me to give up my assigned seat to a stranger on a plane. I do it for couples, not just for children separated from mothers. I try to take actions that make the world a slightly better place.

I’ve been that mom flying alone with her kids, feeling more than a little desperate to keep them close to me. I’ve carefully selected seats only to have my plans disrupted by the airline when an equipment change erases all the previous selections.

On a recent Icelandair flight from KEF to BRU, I made a selfish choice. When the flight attendant asked me if I would give up my window seat for a child, I said, “No.”

Though I think my reasons were valid, I’m clearly carrying some guilt from that decision. I hate to make a child sad. I enjoy most kids, even on airplanes, and am more likely to help out another mom than glare when her baby kicks up a fuss.

Major exception: when your kid is kicking my seat, I am just one step away from being annoyed, and I will turn around and ask you to stop him or her. Apologetic and helpful parents defuse all of my frustration… unless the kid is old enough to be doing it on purpose and seems inclined to keep it up.

Children are free agents, no matter how hard we try to remain diligent. I police my own kids pretty hard in that regard because, as a traveler with chronic pain, I am being literal when I say, “I feel your pain!”

On a bad day, a rhythmic seat kicking is torture for me. I won’t yell at you or your kid, but I will expect you to do your best to stop the behavior.

And this segue brings us around to my primary motivation for saying no to another mother on Flight 554. I was already in pain.

I select window seats on flights most of the time because I want to get as far away as possible from the jostling at the aisle. Never mind a direct hit by the beverage cart, even a pair of average sized passengers passing in the aisle can result in a brush with my side that hurts. I’ve been smacked more than once by people carelessly removing bags from the overhead bin, too.

I’m sitting in a window seat because I like the view, but even more to avoid actual pain from accidental touch.

I think that alone is sufficient justification for turning down a fellow passenger, though it obviously still makes me feel bad.

In this case, it is also worth mentioning that this was a mother with three kids who looked to be preteens and above. The child in question was probably 12 or more, standing shoulder high to her mother. She didn’t look frightened or upset to be separated from her mom, she looked bored. She had headphones on and didn’t seem to be talking to her family members anyway.

I pointed out that the middle seat in our row was free, even closer to her family across the aisle than mine by the window. I held firm to the fact that I needed to stay where I was to avoid being bumped by other passengers.

I don’t know where the girl ended up sitting, but it wasn’t in my row, though the rest of the family stayed put across the aisle.

If a woman with a toddler had been standing in the aisle with pleading eyes, I would have moved before I even thought to protect my own fragile state. This was at the mere beginning of a two week trip, no less, when preserving my energy was really important.

Some people think it is always obnoxious for any passenger to ask another to give up a seat. Nonsense! The airlines are operating a virtual free-for-all of Darwinian proportions at 30,000 feet. It is easy for even an experienced traveler to end up separated from children who really aren’t in a good position to care for themselves.

Others suggest that families should always be accommodated. I wouldn’t go quite that far, but I do believe that commercial airlines should be compelled by law to seat children under about age 12 or anyone with significant special needs adjacent to a caregiver before charging average passengers for the privilege of seats that suck less.

Airlines should profit less on seat selection. It costs them nothing compared with serving food, say, is a pure profit opportunity, and yet it creates real stress for groups traveling together. Unless paying for a reserved seat is an ironclad guarantee that I’m going to get exactly the seat and amenities I’ve selected–read the fine print, it usually is not a guarantee of anything but a charge to your credit card–then the system is a scam.

As a mom, if I can’t sit by my teen, I think, “Gee, too bad.” Then I return to my book. It’s no big deal.

When the situation is placement of my younger child who gets motion sick and has allergies and asthma, I work a little harder for a more satisfactory resolution. I suggest that I must be at least within sight of him lest he struggle with his breathing, though that situation is thankfully very rare.

I also tell whomever he’s seated next to that they might want to keep a barf bag ready, just in case. Maybe it’s just my family, but my kids tend to vomit on the person next to them at least as often as they get sick on themselves!

I’m totally honest with other airline passengers: my son doesn’t always throw up on a flight. It isn’t even most trips by airplane. Then again, he has vomited more than once due to turbulence.

Most passengers and/or flight attendants work together to help a parent find a better solution for a child with that kind of need. Though why the hell any passenger ever has to get involved is part of what makes me angry with the airlines: this is their problem to solve. It doesn’t belong to the poor soul who thought she’d reserved her favorite type of seat and would get to sit in it. Nor can a hapless parent who travels occasionally be expected to navigate the Byzantine world of airline chicanery.

Filing a complaint? No doubt there will soon be a $25 fee for that, too.

As my “more complicated to travel with” son nears the end of elementary school, however, even his “interesting” issues are less of a concern to me than they were with younger children in tow.

At this point, the kid might manage by himself to barf into a bag on his lap; when he was five, that chance was zero. I’m honestly uncertain as to what he would do with said bag once it was full of vomit unless I was there next to him to take it off his hands.

Parents should sit with their kids because this stuff happens, and no one cares as much as a child’s own parent. The parent isn’t trying to offload any responsibilities to other poorly placed passengers. Airline policies are simply inhumane and short-sighted.

It is patently obvious that this is not a black and white situation, but a matter of multiple shades of grey. Like most of life, actually, including whether or not a relatively nice person such as myself, a caring mother and lover of children, gives up her window seat to humor a pre-teen.

This time, I didn’t, but my conscious is clear. Well, mostly. After all, I did take the time to write this piece.

Spring Break: a great time to tell kids, “I’m glad you’re here”

Spring Break is winding up in our neck of the woods, and it brings up a pet peeve I’ve written about before: messages in popular culture that suggest children are an annoyance, or a burden, more than integral parts of our families and society.

Of course, I understand that a week at home with kids one usually sends off to school can disrupt orderly routines. It requires scrambling for babysitters or fun activities to fill unaccustomed hours. That presents an element of inconvenience, especially for those who can’t take the same days off of work to spend time relaxing with the freed children.

Calendar spring break - 1The disconnect between today’s school calendars and the dual working parent/single parent households that make up most American families doesn’t make the children themselves the problem.

Try to find a moment to tell your kids so, even if you think they’ll roll their eyes or believe you’ve gone batty. It’s good for them to hear it said.

It’s good for us to say it, too.

It’s easy to get caught up in life’s buffeting winds of distractions and disappointments. Kids are beholden to us adults for everything: shelter, food, toys, and a sense of where they stand in the world. Don’t forget that last bit in the struggle to optimize the tangible needs.

Mom hugI tell my kids I love them, but I also say how much I like them for who they are, no matter how different from me, and even when* those differences cause us to disagree.

They’ve heard me get angry at “back to school” sale ads that suggest parents rejoice once the brats are out of their hair. I reject those offensive notions, and I tell my kids so. Kids deserve better than that, just because they’re human beings, and even when their vacation weeks disrupt our schedules.

Spring Break this year at our house did include my sending them out to dinner and a movie with Grandma so that a group of moms could join me for a ladies’ literature evening. I know I’m fortunate to have willing family members available to give me a few hours off; I’m grateful for that.

My mom did bring our young friend, The Scholar, along for the evening together with my boys. Since The Scholar’s mother wouldn’t have been able to attend otherwise, this was a gracious favor on Mom’s part.

That brings up one other option for showing kids during school breaks that they are valued by caring adults: make the offer to help another parent fill some of those hours if you’ve got a bit more bandwidth free.

Children thrive when a variety of adults show them consideration and make time for them. Society thrives when all of our children are well cared for.

CrocusI’m not sure it’s the village that matters; I think it’s all about the tribe.

It’s amazing how tiny an effort can make the world a better place for someone else. I live in certainty that every child deserves at least that much.

*Not so much during a fight, say, do I remember to be so gracious, but I try to get the message across the rest of the time, so the good things overwhelm family squabbles. I’m no saint!

**She’s another home educated child whom I tutor in math because my talents differ from those of her mother.

Flu

Just one word: flu.

I never use one word when one thousand will do, so, naturally, I will elaborate.

As if winter’s lingering darkness and New England’s coldest temperatures in years weren’t enough, we have to add widespread influenza infection to the list of legitimate complaints for still nascent 2018.

If my local children’s librarian* is to be believed, our corner of our state is the hardest hit in the area with this more-severe-than-average flu.

My situation isn’t even so bad. We are a house divided: only one of us has flu. I’m hunkering down with the sick one while DH keeps his distance and manages the healthy one. They leave us trays of food outside the door and occasionally send word about the outside world.

flu gear - 2The good news is that we have space enough to almost completely quarantine the sick kid. He hasn’t been downstairs for several days. Our over-the-top 1980s house came complete with a wet bar in the spacious master bedroom; between the mini fridge and the microwave, I can cover most of our needs without venturing forth myself.

We’re also lucky that the vicious cold spell is over. I can crack a window for ventilation between the child’s Petri dish of a nest and my frequently wiped down seat on the other side of the room. He isn’t lonely, and I haven’t caught the Plague yet. The separate heating zone for this room also assuages some of my guilt about sending so much heat literally out the window.

The bad news is that it’s the kid with the underlying condition making flu particularly dangerous that caught it.**

The doctor didn’t even want me to bring him in, citing the risk of exposure for others. He called in a prescription for Tamiflu and told me to plan on spending four to five days at home. The drug is the best thing medicine has got for reducing flu symptoms, but it only knocks half a day or so off the illness’s expected duration.

flu gear - 1Since the only side effect we’ve noticed is mild nausea and the evidence suggests Tamiflu reduces my son’s risk of hospitalization, I have no regrets about following this course of action.

An interesting aside: my husband’s doctor recommended getting the nasal swab flu test, but the pediatrician did not want to risk exposing others at a medical facility. DH’s internist would also have prescribed Tamiflu as a preventative to the rest of our household. The pediatrician did ask if my other son needed an Rx, too, but didn’t suggest Tamiflu for the adults.

We generally prefer to avoid taking drugs until they are absolutely necessary, so none of the rest of us are taking antiviral medication, but I found the variety of approaches interesting.

I should add here that, though I have a chronic illness, I am not considered immunocompromised at this point. If I were, I would take the Tamiflu without argument; as it is, I will play the odds.

We’ve increased the dosage on my son’s usual meds as directed, and I know the danger signs of severe illness for which I should watch, but the primary treatment for my sick kid is the same as for the rest of us unlucky enough to catch the flu: plenty of fluids and lots of rest at home.

I’m keeping myself sane by the following means:

  • Alphabears app on my iPad ~ the best word game I’ve played since my paid version of Bookworm stopped being supported after wretched EA bought innovative game developer PopCap.
  • Skullduggery Pleasant audiobooks ~ a great story that amuses both mom and child in the sickroom, but my older son had to jump through hoops to get the later books since they were only released in the UK. Read what you can get your hands on here in the USA, then agitate for the rest of Derek Landy’s series to be readily available where ever it is wanted.
  • Refining my packing list—and taking photos of same—for an upcoming trip that I will blog about after the fact ~ if you see better than usual pics after my next big adventure, you can thank 100 hours or so of enforced idleness wherein the closet became a welcome break from the monotony of the bedroom.
  • Wiping down doorknobs, light switches, and remote controls with disinfectant ~ okay, so that one isn’t so much fun as functional, but it does keep my brain occupied. “What did the child touch?” Right. Just about everything. Sigh.

Stay healthy, dear readers!

Wash yours hands often, or use hand sanitizer. Humidify your air if it approaches arid arctic conditions. The influenza virus is weakened at normal to high humidity levels aim for 50% RH***, and simple soap and water or the alcohol in sanitizer are sufficient to deactivate it on your skin before you transfer it to your vulnerable mucus membranes (i.e., nose and mouth, where the virus usually gets in.)

And if you do get sick with the flu, please, stay home until you’re no longer contagious.

Not sure if it is just a cold or the dreaded flu? Call your doctor!

If you’re not willing or able to do that, your best clues are:

  • sudden onset of symptoms,
  • severity of symptoms, and
  • presence of a fever.

When in doubt, stay home while sick. You are most contagious during the first few days with influenza.

If you have flu, you are spraying a cloud of virus into the surrounding environment with every breath. The person standing next to you could have a compromised immune system or a preemie at home.

Keep your germs to yourself. Let’s all work together so that this flu season winds down soon.

*I didn’t ask if she’d used her librarian superpowers to find out this fact, or the same gossip mere mortals employ to assess epidemic illness trends, so that might just be hearsay. As it served my preexisting notions, I just assumed she was correct.

**When I called his school to let them know he would be out sick, I learned that several other children from his class had the same symptoms. Ah, children. They’re the cutest little vectors for disease.

***Relative Humidity

Bluetooth keyboard: Logitech K780 liberates a writer on the move

If I hadn’t purchased a Bluetooth keyboard, this blog would have about 30% of its current content. My preferred portable input device is a Logitech K780 model.

I bought mine from Amazon about a year ago when I began writing regularly for my blog. I quickly realized that hand discomfort was my limiting factor for writing long form content away from my desk with an iPad. I paid $75 then; today’s price is several dollars less.

keyboard in use - 1

My Logitech K780 keyboard in use on a lap desk

The dedicated keys for switching almost instantaneously between three devices are a major factor in my enjoyment of this particular keyboard. Those are the three white keys at the upper left of the K780 in the photo above.

Because I experience arthritis pain and stiffness in my fingers and wrists, tapping on a touchscreen while holding a device can be difficult, excruciating, or even impossible.

If I have my keyboard out, I use it to enter even short, simple text messages into my Android Blu R1 phone. Using the Logitech K780 is that much more comfortable for me.

keyboard Logitech bluetooth K780 - 5

Slim, but for the hump

Two other functions made the K780 the best keyboard for me:

  1. I prefer a keyboard with a numeric keypad for efficient data entry, and
  2. the indented slot simultaneously holds phones and tablets in place while I work.

That first one won’t matter to many users. If you don’t use the number pad on your current keyboard often or ever!, then by all means choose a smaller, lighter Bluetooth keyboard for your use on the go.*

Logitech offers the K380 model which has one touch device switching, like my K780, but without the built-in stand, or the K480, with stand, but using a fussy-looking dial instead of a keystroke to change devices. I haven’t tried either of those.

The little ledge that holds a device, however, will likely appeal to many users. Imagine a small, parallelogram-shaped valley parallel to your top row of keyboard keys, and you’ll have the form of this feature on the Logitech K780. It works well, supporting even a full sized iPad without a wobble on flat surfaces.

What makes this work exceedingly well for me is the full width keyboard (remember that numeric pad!) that leaves room for an iPad Pro—inside its thin, folio style case—as well as two cell phones. Not only can I swap which device I desire to control in an instant with the press of a physical button, but I also have that same device in view without juggling electronics.

Because we’ve talked about how well I juggle these days, right? My arthritis makes me drop things frequently as well as causing pain.

Continue reading