Still here to tell the tale

19/09/19
By 7am I was already out in the front garden, panic pruning before the arrival of gardeners who were expected at 8.30 to finish cutting and remove all the mess. At 8am it began to rain so the gardeners didn’t turn up.
I turned my attention to two huge fish, given to us by local fishermen, removed all the bones, then cleaned and cooked a ton of runner beans ready for our evening meal.
By mid-morning, my thoughts were for Francesco and the kids and the prospect of a three session lunch, but in the back of my mind were the plumbers who were expected any moment from now till tomorrow to clear a blocked kitchen sink drain.
The gardeners arrived, finished the job with much noise and some direction and carried off a lorry load of garden rubbish.
Each time kids or workmen arrive, the dogs have to be segregated and dog poo has to be removed.
The kids arrived, food was served and eaten, the blocked kitchen sink filled with dirty pots and dished, kids went home and just as I sat down at around 14.30, the plumbers arrived.
Their arrival entailed rapid removal of stuff in the sink, all draws beneath the sink using my last dregs of energy.
They tried every trick of the trade, including what we had been trying for the last two days but still the blockage shifted back and forth and would not disappear.  I hoped they wouldn’t, I dreaded that they would, and the eventually DID bring out the terrible acid and with it, the terrible smell.
I was already stressed and very tired, so I went upstairs, flaked out on the bed and waited. The smell persisted, so I decided to abandon the whole scene. Out of the front gate I went, in scruffy clothes, dirty flip flops and holding only a bunch of keys.
On the other side of the road the heat hit me, as did a slight uneasy feeling of panic as I couldn’t see properly. Vision was of blotchy un-matching images bathed in flashing light. I walked carefully down a flight of steps towards the sea, crouched in a small area of shade, thinking how silly I must look and my trousers were getting dirty. I opted to go further down, stopping only to sit in a shaded area where there were two women.
I don’t know why, but I stood up and moved to a bar area where a man and woman were seated. “I don’t feel well” I said. The offered me water, then water with sugar, more water saying it could happen to anyone. As time progressed my vision had worsened, I would be unable to recognize the people there and I couldn’t understand what they were saying or say anything myself except very simple things. I couldn’t give them my address but was able to give Stefano’s telephone number since these kind people offered to make a call for me.
Stefano arrived, Luca drove down to the beach in his Land Rover, took me up to the main road where an ambulance was waiting. I don’t know how long this took, but from then on, I received excellent treatment, blood tests and a CAT scan. I was told I probably had a TIA and would have further scan after 24 hours. 
later I was told I must stay at the hospital, but there not being any beds free I was assigned a stretcher in the emergency unit and that was where I spent the night, along with another four women in various states. Having fully  recovered my senses, fully clothed, I tried to sleep with a jacket sleeve wrapped around my face to block out a glaring  overhead lamp. A woman with alzheimer’s shat herself but didn’t tell anyone, so we didn’t know where the pong was coming from. In the morning she stole my flip flops. After many attempts, I was quite firm with her and she gave them up. I honestly didn’t fancy wearing them, but had little choice.
At least we had all been attended to, were all safe, had been fed and the facilities were not too bad either.
The background noise in this place is like a rowdy souk with lots of banging, urgent verbal exchanges and a more cheerful atmosphere than you would expect.
In the morning , the day doctor “G” was running the show, her bobbed hair bouncing, giving orders, being snappy and generally her arrogant self. (as you might guess, we have already come into contact with her in the past) As she saw me she said “la signora is OK, she can go home” “But” I said, “last night, the attending doctor said I have a 20mm something or other in my brain and I have to do another scan” “I have a degree in medicine” she said, “I don’t know what you have a degree in” “My comment”  I said, “was based on the degree in medicine of the previous  doctor who told me I should have more tests”
She not appreciate being contested. She gave me a few simple motor tests to prove her diagnosis that I was fine and should go home, adding that it wasn’t her fault if other doctors make mistakes. And there she goes, stomping back and forth, big bottom and hair bouncing as she goes, oblivious to what is known about her and what is about to happen.
At about 11am Doctor “G” must have received a phone call from her boss, who was not at work that day, for her attitude changed to subservient, smiling kindness. She said that an ambulance was on its way to take me to another hospital where I would have other tests, gave me the name of the hospital, asking me if it was acceptable to me. (hee, hee, hee + silent snigger)
Due to traffic jams, the ambulance arrived at 18.30 just I had finished eating the evening meal and off we went to the big city, with me in the back in the pleasant company of a young male nurse who was studying for exams during the journey.
On our arrival at this privately owned and run to make money hospital, we were thwarted in out attempt to enter the lift. A very expensively dressed woman, probably the owner, told us that the lift was reserved for visitors and that we ought to understand! As it was the only functioning lift, as soon as she turned a corner, we climbed in and went to our floor.
So here I am, stuck in a big hospital in the big city, waiting to do I don’t know what tests on Monday.
The food is surprisingly good but in tiny quantities. Fortunately I’m dieting, so it doesn’t matter. I’ve been visted by three quacks; one Italian, one Lebanese and one from Angola. The Italian is rather ancient and the Lebanese is very friendly but excruciatingly smelly. So far no info.
Saturday 20/09/19
This hospital is evidently out to make money. Everything is “extra” including common courtesy and the staff are over-worked and under paid. The view from here is stunning. Pine trees, palms, white villas, monuments with hills beyond the city.
There are only two beds in this room, the other patient being a ninety year old lady whose main activity consists of ringing the bell for a bed pan. Otherwise she is very quiet. During a conversation with her son, I discovered that in common, he and I have broken our ankles in exactly the same way, (many years ago) both had a hole drilled in our ankles without an anesthetic, and we both had the procedure go wrong, which is not at all funny. In his case it was misaligned, in mine the bit came out of the drill while in my foot!| I have congenital bad luck.
The lady in the next bed farts and burps frequently, but I have seen and heard worse.
10.00 pm a live band has just begun playing at a wedding party in the big villa next door. It is very elegant, with green and white striped awnings. I hope the music is as good as it was last night.
21/09/19
I am writing this sitting at the wrong end of the bed as it is the only place where the pillow will stay in place long enough for me to write without getting a pain in my back.
Question: Have I had a real stroke? Am I set for a series of strokes? I don’t know yet, but I will certainly be more careful with BP meds and aspirin.
The band is quite good, but not my taste. Too bad but it isn’t my wedding anyway. I wonder if there are any statistics regarding the quality and expense of a wedding in relation to its success/duration.
Anna and Vanni came to visit me this evening. It was so kind of them, especially considering their recent ordeal. They still have resources to share with others. I guess that means they are very rich inside.
I mean to use this time to do things that I’m unable to do or cannot justify, for lack of time during normal life and see what comes out.
22.20
The band is improving, going slightly weird with a hypnotic, rolling rhythm.
22/09/2019
I managed a shower this morning, carefully avoiding the needle stuck in my left arm. I missed Lorenzo’s football march yesterday BUM.
The weather is overcast and rainy. I prefer the cool weather so it suits me. I feel so trapped here with nowhere to walk except up and down the balcony. This place is not so bad for a big city, but I prefer home or the country. I have a whole day of nothing ahead except a visit form Stefano.
My room-mate is feeling brighter today, She is telling me her life story, how she was born in deep countryside, had very little schooling, had to take care of sheep  from the  age of five. Over the course of her life, about which I know nothing, her status had changed, such that she currently has full-time help to assist her in her daily needs and currently shows a strange combination of humility and entitlement.
 If a nurse doesn’t respond quickly to her bell call for a bed pan, she asks me to do it. I’ve done it without thinking twice and emptying the blooming thing but I have stopped because I realize she is grooming me to become her servant.
She is neither wheedling nor haughty but just expects me to move her stuff because she doesn’t want to do it herself. I say want, because I discovered that she can get out of bed and walk if she so decides. Fascinating.
16.40
The weather has turned chilly and there are no blankets available in the hospital, so I have been told after four requests.
23/09/19
07.00am Today something is supposed to happen so I will take note of every detail hence forth.
07.00 I am having to ignore my room-mate because I note that she is watching my every move. She just farted and rang her bell, so who knows what to expect……
08.00 A nurse told me not to walk up and down the corridor. I resisted the temptation to cry, took my IPOD and headphones and did 2000 steps on the balcony, wishing, each time I reached the wall at the end, I could do a Parkour turn like Baldrick. Each time I passed the forbidden corridor entrance, I made a formal bow. I bowed to what I cannot control. On my return, an unknown quack walked into my room, shook my hand and said “see you later”. I still don’t know what is on the medical menu.
08.30
Breakfast consisting of tea and two small slices of melba toast and NO jam.Going to get some coffee from the machine, since my BP was OK this morning, it can’t do any harm. Had Coffee and a huge chocolate chip biscuit.
My room-mate is driving me nuts. Get me this, do me that, fart, fart, fart.
She has full time help at home but her son told me that there is a gap without  for the next ten days, so he is glad she is in here and being looked after.. Unfortunately she is I hospital and I am not here to be at her cbeck and call. I am also a patient who is beginning to lose her patience.
09.30 The shared bathroom stinks of piss because nursing staff, exasperated by my RM’s pissings, are emptying the bed pan down the loo without rinsing it afterwards, hence the stale piss smell. (forgive the vulgarities, but it gets to you after a while).
09.50 I placed two little notes with illustrations in the bathroom regarding the above issue. Hope it resolves the problem (the ventilation system isn’t working either!)
10.20 Doctor’s visit. They ask  me if I knew my cholesterol was 270. Probably having MRI and neck eco-doppler by Wednesday???
10.30 let Stefano know.
11.15 Heard in the corridor “Help, help, help” in a small female voice, probably coming from a nurse, followed by rushing of many feet and “le è scappata di culo” which roughly translated would be “she let go from her bum”
11.25 Bathroom cleaned and notes removed.
11.45 R.M. rang her bell and followed with a musical fart, then bell… fart……..
(An afterthought while transcribing this, is that 90% activity in this place seems to revolve around defecation. Perhaps that is why they keep food intake to a minimum.)
13.10 Lunch:Tomato risotto, meat balls made of unidentifiable meat with a strong aftertaste of liver plus a small amount of salad. I ate it all anyway, despite my conviction that they were made of offal, against a background of pop farts galore. 
I did manage to finish my lunch before anything dramatic happened.
So far there is no hint of tests being imminent. I feel a bit sicky BUT I think I will buy something wicked from the vending machine to take away the weird taste in my mouth.
She’s at it again. This time it was “pass the toilet paper”.
Luca came to visit and brought badly needed supplies. He brought a blanket, pillow cases and sports shoes, only they were Stefano’s dirty old running shoes without the inner soles. 6800 steps today. Well done me.
Day five 24.09.19
Thrice to the bog already, after a sleepless night. Some old bloke (with alzheimers) screaming “help me” all night long. Sunny day with sun streaming through the window.  I have gut rot caused by mars bars or meat balls?
10.30 Quack. Today echocardiogram- done OK.
Dressed in civvies, I sneaked downstairs to the bar, bought a newspaper and walked back up.
Lunch: Pasta, fish, slosh potato and peach.
16.30 Still waiting for neck eco-doppler – done
Day six 25.0919
Woke up rested (in spite of really hard mattress) and ten years younger, thinking of Freddie M, “It’s a beautiful day……….”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pymfx4uwIY&list=RD6pymfx4uwIY&start_radio=1&t=0&t=1
Breakfast – Tea and two rusks only!
Quack visit. MRI scan will show quality of 20mm blotch on brain. Thyroid tests have been done.
Mr. Silver Back, the very smelly, cheerful, tall and hefty doctor from Lebanon, who incidentally has the same surname as the famous poet Khalil, asked me how long the balcony measured. I surprised him by giving him the answer “47 x 60cm”.
12.50 Lunch- rice salad, meat balls again, sloshed potato again, single plum and mars bar.
13.20 Received unpleasant phone call.
16.55 Just returned from MRI scan. The most awful experience, 20 minutes of noisy hell. I caught a glimpse of an image of my head as I walked passed the screen and I am scared because I saw a load of black spots. (I later realized that these spots were probably a cross section showing blood vessels) I was asked how long ago the “event” took place.
17.00 MRI results are in the computer but big fat bitch nurse will not allow me to see them before the doctor.
21.50 Had Along chat with two elderly ladies. There is always more than meets the eye.
Day 7  26.0.19
All the elderly ladies are washing their hair, using my shampoo and hair drier and feeling much better for it.
Yesterday evening, three of us sat on a sofa, sharing stories of sadness, strength and support.
08.00 Valeria rang. It’s her 14th birthday today.
08,30 Breakfast with THREE rusks instead of two, courtesy of an Indian nurse.
09.15 Quacks have begun the rounds. Sitting on the bed, showered, hair washed, waiting for the verdict.
10.00am Quack-OK à can go home.
Verdict TIA.
I will not know full details until I go back for a check-up 22 oct. and/or get my hands on full medical records..