I had to go to a rural hospital for an appointment with the gynocologist. I usually sing the praises of these hospitals. And did last time. I stayed in overnight for a scrape and biopsy. The results came back very quickly. Negative for all nasties.
But there has to be further treatment, an operation. One of those women's things. The gyno doc is retiring and expects to get leave in the next week or so and not return. He doesn't want to perform the operation. He's done enough of them and anyway the necessary materials are not available just now. **Often in a case like this you presumed the doctor just wanted a little extra and a discreet but bulging plain envelope did the trick. This doctor really is tired. He tried to put us off in every way he could. His final suggestion was that I go back to my 'native land' to get it done. That rather flabbergasted us. Go home? I think he presumed I was a refugee from Romania or Hungary or another Balkan state and had found a rich greek to marry. It has been many many years since we have run into someone who does not know where NZ is in the world. He came out with Finland?, no. Then finally seemed to remember a land in the mist down near Australia. He really has been working hard, hasn't had time to learn about current affairs, geography and certainly no time to learn a little of the english language. No, I don't expect the whole world to speak english but it seems strange.
The hospital does what it can for foreigners. There was an elderly english gent there with his wife who had broken her leg. He had been sent along to the secretary's office to get the right papers. Everyone in the queue helped him out and he wasn't refused treatment for his wife because he didn't have his passport and was not in the greek system.
I hope he finds the nurses as friendly and helpful as I did on my overnight stay. They went out of their way to make sure I was comfortable even keeping my lunch back so I could eat a few hours after the biopsy. The Matron was friendly with a sense of humour.
So what do I do now? The doctor also told us that no other doctor had been appointed in his place. He told us too that most rural hospitals cut back on staff over the summer and only urgent surgeries were being done. Mine's not urgent so we have till October to find another solution. K will start to make phone calls. There are 2 other rural hospitals but we could possibly use the Naval Hospital in Athens or one of the General hospitals in Piraeus. All perfectly fine except we don't want to go into Athens or Piraeus. 'Tha thoume', we will see.
We filled up on petrol over on the mainland and were pleased to see the price had gone down by a few cents. The car ferry ticket however had risen from 6.80 euros to 9.70 euros. That's a helluva an increase , especially when petrol prices are no longer sky rocketing.
A trip to the closest city, Nafplio, now costs us almost twice what it did before Russia began the war. It's still far cheaper than going into Athens either by car, boat or fast hydrofoil. Another reason we prefer these rural towns.
Nafplio is just over an hour away and if we choose the right day there is also a very big farmers market selling everything from lettuces to lingerie. We know where to park, where to find good coffee, really good bread and K has his special 'old mens' cafe where he loves to sit, drink a litre of local wine and enjoy a plate of little fishes.
It was 38oC on the day we went . We left very early in the morning and got there before the heat of the day hit us. I was prepared to be exhausted but thankfully there was aircondition everywhere, especially in our car. It was too hot to contemplate going through the german supermarket but we stopped on the way back for a quick coffee and I dashed into the Greek supermarket next door. That was my thrill of the day. A bigger supermarket than the one on the island. I got a few essentials and a few non-essentials.
Then home for a cold shower.