Friday, June 26, 2009

After the party

A few photos to give a general idea of village celebrations.

All was enjoyed, by T. and visiting grandson. Much eating and fire jumping ensued (grandson is 15 and eats selectively- he selects then eats) Everyone came home smelling much like a giant fire sale. Explained that clothes must be removed outside before entering and stinking up the house!

Fun celebration included v. short video of parade is below. click on square to make work (well ok, then you have to click on the little arrow)...


Yesterday was fraught with yet another interesting challenge of overseas living: visiting a doctor.

For our 40 Anniversary last March 1, T. and I went to London. On arrival I hefted my suitcase down the stairs of the underground and heard a disconcerting "pop". Holborn tube station will forever hold bad memories for me- and it was only a transfer!

Well the assumption on my part at the time was "%#!^", "there goes either the ACL or the meniscus!" And finally, this past week after an MRI, I was proven correct. Both went- but only slightly. (wonder somehow, if that's like "a little bit pregnant"?) The added joy is provided by a small cyst and a slightly dislocated kneecap. Isn't aging fun?

I kept hoping it would miraculously self cure, but of course it didn't meaning I had to find a doctor here who:
A) spoke English
B) knew what he was doing
(and of course)
C) could convince me, in English, that he knew what he was doing.

I found one and after a few bumpy starts wherein I explained that I was NOT going to have surgery just to have a "look see" we decided on a repair plan that includes physical therapy, ice, mild exercise and rest.

Sadly it also included weight loss. So as of today, I am starting on a 1200 calorie a day diet.

To support me, my new doctor unearthed a useful secondary specialty: accupuncture. So now I am wearing two small needled tabs in my ears that will curb my appetite and make this diet seem like childs play. (one hopes) I must admit tho I feel like a "tagged" heifer.

I will say that it is bad enough having to go to a doctor, but in a foreign country, it can be really frightening. Not so much because of mistakes (which happen anywhere), but because everything is happening around you in another language, that you mostly don't understand, by people who seem nice but could be axe murders. I have a great mistrust of the medical profession. And tho I marvel at all they accomplish- their magic somehow never extends to me.

There is also the small matter of ridiculous cost for value that I still can't get my head around. In my lifetime I have seen the cost of a doctor's visit escalate to ridiculous heights while the time with the doctor has dropped to a fraction of what you need to explain your problem. Compound that with the reply and treatment - which for the most part hasn't changed day to day from 50 years ago (aspirin, to antibiotics...) and somehow the cost of our medical insurance -monthly- is more than what we paid out monthly for our first mortgage payment! AND that doesn't include the cost you have to pay anyway! (ah but I digress... this is about Corfu, not the REAL world.)

Anyway, this topic of medical treatment in Corfu will no doubt continue to develop, as the doctor informed me it could be several months of rehabilitation on the knee.

hmph. Oh yeah, AND it raining again! (as it's 5:30 in the morning however it's allowed.)

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