Iraklion Day 13: The Waiting Room

 

 

Well this really is a waiting game. Al continues to occupy his ‘hotel room’ in the PaGNI hospital. “The Pa.G.N.I. provides secondary and tertiary health care in a wide range of clinical specialties, diagnostic and laboratory tests. It is located 8km away from the city of Heraklion in the area of Stavrakia, next to the School of Medicine of the University of Crete.”

Here we are this afternoon, enjoying the sunshine outside the 7 bed room that is Al's temporary home. His bed is next to a window and a radiator - perfect climate control! Like many Greek buildings, the walkways also provide shade as the season shifts and the sun gets higher. Of course, they are also used as a smoking area!

I wish we had more to report. Al feels well, the drugs are keeping his condition under control and he is being monitored. So he is safe where he is. Of course it’s an odd situation. We have passed from the shock and fear of the first few days, into a neutral territory of ‘so far so good’. I feel a bit as though we are camping on an ice floe. Safe for now, but we will need a rescue vessel soon. There will have to be a bypass - the question is when? I think the cardiologist would like the operation to be soon - no medical advantage in waiting now all test results are in. We suppose that there is a prioritised list for the cardiology operations, but no-one has really explained how this works.  Possibly a case meeting tomorrow that might give some more clarity.

I am shopping, not to say living, in a day-to-day way, since it is possible that Al will be sent home to wait. A little less safe but the alternative would seem to be many more weeks here. Al isn't keen on that prospect and neither is OC.  Both a bit fed up with the restricted space. I can’t let the cat out on my balcony because he might just take a flying leap for freedom and not be able to find his way back; I could do without that kind of anxiety just now.

I appreciate the WhatsApps and emails that come flying in, and the occasional chat.  It might not seem like much, but it really helps.  Our Marediana friends are in contact most days.

January 31 seems to bring a few deadlines; tax, MOT and maybe something else I have forgotten. Oh yes, rent. Glad I remembered that one. Our host here - apartment found via AirBnb - has been really helpful. Laundry sent and returned - clothes as well as bedlinen. Garage a few doors away not only did the pre-MOT check, they actually took the car to the test centre! Today I took them a small gift of raki and biscuits. The garage man, Nikos, gave me a huge smile and the Cretans really say ‘thank you’ like they mean it, and putting hand on heart. On the down side, Al is finding the inter-patient cordiality a bit trying whilst marvelling at how interested these strangers seem to be in each other’s lives. His current bed neighbour is a younger man who speaks pretty good English, so that’s good.

Tax, in case you don’t know: there is an easement on the deadline for online personal tax until end February, but interest on tax owing will be charged from tomorrow.

Oh - better pay now, then! Just a minute! One password change later and a few thousand lighter... hope that nice Mr Sunak spends it wisely. Oh - a private jet to where? For whom? That’ll pay for the on board meals, then. What was that? Oh, not the drinks...

Back at the hospital - we had a go yesterday at WORDLE. Had to resort to a solving app. More success today in 4 steps. Bravo to us! Al says he doesn’t like games, but the good thing about this one is a) that it is really simple and b) there is only one a day, so no danger of becoming obsessive.

I think Blog and tax payments probably enough for today. Maybe an episode of Star Trek would go well, before another few pages of Zola. After an exhausting day of exploring every food option available on table, floor or sink, and rebooting the computer at least once, Our Cat has agreed to spend another night on the sofa.

I leave you as the sun sets over the hospital.  Wishing you all a good night.

NNNN (telex code for end of message; I rather like it. Ens. Get it? Probably all telex ops were from East London.)

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