To continue my Emergency Hospital experience. I haven't actually had an accident before and gone through this experience. I've taken other people, but not myself. It was surreal to sit in the waiting room, dripping blood on the floor and scaring most of the other patients there. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long and I shuffled into a dingy room with beat-up O2 canisters that looked like they were from WWII and a floor that didn't look like it had been cleaned in a while (today, it looked much better).
If I was a Howard Hughes fan, I wouldn't have stayed there, but I wasn't and was greatful to have someone, anyone help me wash these wounds and access the damage. I was not as much in shock as I thought I'd be. My fall from a papaya tree in Hawaii many years ago was much more frightening, even though less bloody. (sorry for the kids who might be reading this...). So, these woman hover over me, speaking Greek faster than the Spanish speak Spanish. English is a slow language in comparison, especially when you grow up in Iowa... I wonder what they are saying. They shake their heads and one says, "You are very lucky."
"Yes," I agree, gratefully.
"It could be much worse," the nurse says, nodding with a serious frown. They asked me what happened and they all said, "Oh, you could have gone off the cliff... no cars behind you... you were lucky."
"yes," I nodded, shivered and felt the cold metal table under me.
For the next 2 hours with lots of interruptions, they cleaned all the woulds. From head to toe, dabbing 3 different stinging, burning things. The last thing they did for the superficial wounds was spray it with something white that smelled like burned skin. One of the nurses began stitching up my elbow while another staff member looked on. I couldn't tell who was in charge. Finally, half way through this very slow process, she said something to the other young woman (who turned out to be the doctor) and gave her the needle and thread and left the room.
The doctor told me, "The nurse has had a hard day and asked me to finish."
I was glad the nurse said something instead of doing a bad job. So the doctor continued and had a little therapy session with the nurse (in greek of course) and the nurse left after a while while the doctor continued to stitch. At one point, I felt she was hitting my ulnar nerve with the needle and told her. She said, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, that is my ulnar nerve. It is pretty superficial."
She shook her head but I explained my previous work in massage had inflamed that nerve making it more superficial. She nodded and seemed to respect my knowledge of my body more and took her time stitching my arm over the next hour... We talked about medicine in Greece and how she would love to go to the US, but how difficult it is for a woman doctor in Greece. We talked about alternative medicine, and she laughed saying there is no alternative in Greece. "Maybe you can go to your grandmother for herbs, but no. We laugh at homeopathic medicine here. You cannot find it."
If I were to say anything about the Greek medical system, I'd say it was spartan. They don't coddle you and there was one nurse (the one having a hard day) who seemed to look out for me. She brought me water after I asked her, which was really nice.
After this long clean-up, the doctor said I should stay over night because they needed to xray my ankle and the pharmacy is closed at night so I would need to get medications tomorrow (antiobiotic and antiinfammatories). You would think a hospital would have things like that, but they didn't.
I was wheeled into a room by a busy street (it was as noisy all night as Athens). Once I had my water, I asked for another pillow to prop up my swelling foot-- this took a while. Needless to say, I was grateful just to have a safe place to be. The room didn't seem very clean either but after being on survival trips, as long as I would get some antibiotics-- eventually, I should be ok with a dirty floor and questionable bathroom.
After a few hours, a young woman in great pain, maybe from miscariage or something where she was bleeding and clutching her stomach in pain, joined my room. The doctor came in smoking a cigarette and I immediately felt nauseus from the smoke and wondered how this woman who looked green could tolerate the smoke. This certainly wasn't america and the doctor looked very sternly at this woman who was moaning and frightened. People weren't trying to calm her. These people were tough. Even the young woman's mother (I'm assuming) stayed by the foot of the bed, with a concerned look, but gave her space. The staff would come in and inject her with something and just watch. It was stressful and even though I was in spasm and uncomfortable, I was grateful not to have whatever she had.... even though I was alone...
While the experience was challenging, I had to buck up for these Greek people. They really are tough. They seemed to show me some mercy for being alone, female and in a foreign country. The scooter people who I rented the bike from, would pick me up from my room to take me back to the hospital and helped me get some groceries at the market. So, I am doing OK now. Recovering much better with the ankle and elbow slowly healing-- the rest is scabbing nicely. Anna, who runs the pension where I'm staying scrubbed all the oil and blood out of my clothes, like MacBeth- "out, out damn spot"-- but she was successful. I kissed her on each cheek and she was very proud of all her scrubbing.
I think so often of two of my clients who recently broke their ankles and what they have been through. And many of my clients and friends who have difficulty moving and chronic pain. This minor injury has made me appreciate the simple things in life, just getting up and walking ten steps to the bathroom, being able to get out of the house, and enjoying the sunrise as I did this morning. I've been reflecting on the many wonderful people in my life and so grateful I can have these memories and this moment . Hi to J.F. are you reading?
So, here I am in Santorini. Sitting still while tourists scurry and flit around like bees released from captivity, much like I did a week ago. I am eventually headed to Turkey. Sometime. Until next time, I hope you are all well and enjoying your precious life.
Wow we are so happy that you are ok. I was so surprised to read that you were in an accident and injured yourself. We send you lots of love and a quick recovery. Love, Lori, Paul, Claire and William
By Lori Poliski - 6/24/2008 10:57 PM
Dear Annie I got a chock when I read about your accident. I tried it myself in Greece as you remember. I do hope you will take good care, have a quick recovery and will enjoy the rest of your hollidays. I am back in Denmark to a lovely summer, and will go to spend a week in a house at the westcoast of Denmark.
Annie Thoe is an Assistant Feldenkrais Trainer and Practitioner in the Feldenkrais Method with 22 years of experience in bodywork. She has taught numerous modalities of massage therapy, supervised students and practitioners, and teaches locally and nationally. She is on the Board of Directors for the Wilderness Awareness School in Duvall, Washington. In addition to her outdoor naturalist study, Annie has an extensive background in martial arts, sports, and music.
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Comments (2) for "Santorini Island Part III"
April, 2007
