Continuing the adventure begun last week with 29 hours in Rhodes, and including some random images.
Tuesday.
I had two appointments that morning, and the first was at the new H-pad at nine, where I had been invited for coffee. So, after I’d breakfasted on a banana (because at the hotel breakfast was €12.00 extra, and I could get a coffee and large baguette for less at the café (but I didn’t)), I headed a few blocks down to St Nicholas Square, arriving ten minutes early. I sat and watched the world, and Michaelis who reads our water meter, go past until nine, when I called at the apartment. We had one coffee (black, no sugar), an inspection of the H-pad revealed all was well, and after some last minute and unneeded fatherly advice, I headed off for my next appointment, while he headed off to his indoctrination day, or whatever it’s called at colleges these days.
My appointment was at Stavroulis, a private diagnostic centre two more blocks down the street. I had set this up via email the previous week, and it was for an X-ray of my teeth, because my dentist wanted to see what was what. Nothing urgent, just checking up. The centre had emailed me on Monday afternoon to remind me of the appointment at 10.00, and later in the day, the nice lady on reception phoned me to suggest I come ten minutes early as there is always paperwork to do. I arrived at 9.40, and introduced myself to Stella, who seemed delighted to see me, took my passport and tapped away on her keyboard. ‘Do you have an AMKA number?’ she asked, and I gave over my card. (It’s like National Insurance in the UK.) ‘Ah,’ she said with delight. ‘You are entitled to a free blood test. Would you like one?’ Oh, really? Today? ‘Yes, now. It’s for cholesterol and a general check of the usual.’ I’d had one in February under my private health insurance, but this was free, so why not have another? ‘Ah.’ She paused. ‘Have you eaten today?’ I fessed up to the banana. ‘I’ll make a call,’ she whispered as if we were now co-conspirators. A quick chat to someone upstairs, and I was allowed to continue my adventure because I hadn’t had milk or sugar in my coffee.
Stella did some more tapping and handed me two sheets of paper. ‘This is for the X-ray, and after, you are going to the next floor for blood. Take a seat and your number will be called.’
Off I go to the waiting area, where I just had time to arrange myself on a sofa and was settling in for some daytime TV, when my number was called. So, I heaved myself back out of the sofa, and staked my claim, to be led past where we usually go for X-rays and deeper into the mysteries of the Stavroulis. A young lady appeared from a doorway and invited me into her lair, where stood a machine into which I was asked to step. Chin there, look here, keep very still for 15 seconds… She bustles into her antechamber and reminds me to keep still. The machine buzzes around my head, and two panels sweep past left to right to left, and before you know it, done.
‘I will email the image to your dentist, and you can collect your CD before you leave.’
All this was before the time of my appointment, and wow! I got a souvenir too. A few paces to the lift and up to the blood letting department, there to hand over my piece of paper. I was just sitting down when I heard the name ‘Tobias’, and realised they’d already called my other three (in Greece, it’s surname first, then the others). I hovered in that semi-squat, pre-sit position as I waved, and, having righted myself, followed another nice young lady into the bleeding chamber. ‘English or Greek?’ she asked, and I thought, ‘Here we go…’
The usual reply in such a circumstance is English, with the excuse that my Greek isn’t good enough for technical or medical matters. Well, nice young lady #2 had other ideas, and when it transpired that I had lived in Greece for 23 years, that was it. Full-on Greek chat as she sought a vein, with me trying the second excuse: but it’s difficult to learn it on Symi, because they speak Symiaka. At this point, I did my rather naughty impression of the old men outside the bar and rambled along the lines of, ‘Ella, re (indistinct mumbling), punto, re (more indistinct gobbledegook), malaka, mumble, mumble, spitou.’ Laughing, she found a vein and the withdrawal began.
A pleasant chat and a piece of sticking plaster later, and it was back downstairs to wait for my papers. That took about ten minutes, and there I was with a receipt (€40.00 for the X-ray, €0.00 for the full blood test) and a CD. Not of Celine Dion or anyone, not even from K-tel, but an image of what lurks beneath my teeth.
That, I dropped off at the dentist last Thursday, and at some point soon, I will need a root canal, eek. Still, at least, by the time I got home Tuesday evening, my blood results were waiting for me in an email. Nothing outrageous in there, the same as in February, actually, but still, it was free.
