Nightmare On Holiday
My hubby was uncomfortable on the flight mainly due to an insect bite picked up while he was weeding at home. The bite, we thought, had been taken care of after his early morning visit to our general practitioner who prescribed an antihistamine pill and some cream. Clearly, and to our horror,we saw this course of action did not work as he was standing in the hotel room with skin like Freddie Kruger. The bite had worsened and now at least 70 per cent of his body was covered in sores, even the parts we don't talk about on this site. We were tired and worried, but it was such early hours, we decided to sleep on it until later in the hope that the pills would take hold and the cream had time to work.
I awoke to the searing heat from the sun filling our room. It was 11am, time to get up and explore, but there was just one problem and he was asleep in the next bed. He awoke and the decision to find a doctor was made, so off we all went, not to the beach, nor to explore, but off on a quest to find a good English speaking doctor.
The medical centre was just in town but closed for the day so we asked at the tourist information where the nearest open medical centre was. "No centre open today -- good hospital up there" I looked up this enormous hill and believe me it was a huge climb.
"That one up there?" I asked, and she nodded! We began our climb. No wonder it's a good hospital, I thought, you'd have to be well to get up there in the first place. I was sweating -- I sure had my long awaited warmth but not this way!
We finally arrived and the language barrier was the first problem. I'd learned a little Greek some years ago but not enough to explain that my hubby had sores all over his body and it was a horse fly that did it! We were escorted to another room where my hubby began to undress slightly to gasps from the Greek medical staff who immediately left the room and ushered in a little doctor who remarkably resembled a Super Mario Brother,which tickled my daughter so much she had to leave the room. After a lot of oooh arrr! they decided to take some blood.
"Go away, come back two o clock," they said. We walked around the grounds -- there was no way I was walking down that hill again and then walking back up. Some holiday this was turning out to be! Two o'clock came and we waited in a small room until Mr Mario appeared with the results.
"You must go right away to University hospital in Heraklion," he said rather worryingly. "Your results not good -- go now." We sat rather shocked as he pointed towards the door.
My hubby stuttered."We'll go home on the next flight." But the doctor told us he wouldn't get a certificate of fitness to fly! We knew it wasn't contageous and he'd had something like this before from a plant -- the same rash, so we were'nt worried about risking anyone else's health. We hurried back down the hill and pondered and argued and emotionally made the decision to return home no matter what. We booked ourself a flight but the first one home was Tuesday and it was only Sunday. We could only get the one to Glasgow which meant a hefty journey home even after our arrival in the UK.
We enjoyed the few days we had in our resort but by Tuesday we were ready to come home. We flew to Glasgow through two thunderstorms,easily the worst flight I've ever been on. Then we caught a small propellered plane back to Manchester which was equally bumpy. Arriving home, our trip a disaster and hubby at the hospital in town, I avoided saying, "Why does it always happen to us?" There's far worse goes on in the world, but can we never do anything right?"
Home at last and hubby is much better -- it was only an allergic reaction to the bite. Try telling him that -- in his version of this holiday nightmare he was at death's door. With that, I'll say no more!