adventures in Athens

One good thing that’s come from the Corona virus is that greeks have learned to queue and respect personal space… something I was sure was absent on a genetic level.

In the past you’d go to the bank or an office or anywhere really, and there wasn’t a queue so much as a mob of people which moved as one, pushing, shoving and generally breathing down your neck. There was no way to get anything done ‘privately’ as they would lean into you as you did whatever it was you needed to do.

Today I went to the laiki, the fresh food market in our local area, and a lady actually told me off cause I stepped within one meter of her to read a sign. Ooops. Sorry. I WAS wearing a mask…

My life has become a drudgery of caring for my aunt about 4 times a day, doing stuff for her, giving her meds and generally keeping her company for hours in the day while she plods painfully from the kitchen to the bathroom to the bedroom. And trying not to listen to her moaning.

New installment: besides the usual “God why are you torturing me” and the “why didn’t my mother throw me in the rubbish” is the “what kind of doctors are these who can’t make a person better? Are they totally useless?” To which I can’t help reply: “He gave you a set of tests to take. He gave you shots I administer twice a day. He gave you meds. What else can he do? Remove your hip?”

Then there’s keeping mom company (which I fall woefully short on) and doing the shopping and any calls needed to book appointments and get information… And of course taking them both to the myriad of tests they have to do.

The most fun of all is making the calls. Every time I’ve tried to make an appointment follow-up for mom after her discharge from the hospital I’ve been sent on wild goose chases….

Here is a typical call:

“Hello, I’d like to make an appointment for my mother as a follow up to her hospital visit as recommended by the doctor (proceed to read what the Dr had written in my bad greek)”

Get put through to the department.

Repeat what I said.

“Where was your mother? What’s her name? That’s not here. You must call downstairs again and they will put you through to the right department. No we can’t put you through, you must call them again.”

Call again.

Repeat what I said.

Get put through.

Repeat what I said.

“I just spoke to you. This is not the right department.”

Repeat the entire procedure about 2 more times till finally someone gives me another number to call and finally I’m able to make the appointment!

I take Lainee for short walks (usually on an errand run) and try to get some rest to keep my sanity. Even the WordPress app is trying to drive me insane as its working so slowly and not right!

I remain optimistic that I will one day be able to use the watercolours I brought with me. Hopefully while I still remember how to use them.

z

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