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| Me in Hurghada Hospital |
Oh dear, I should have known better than to predict that I will be having a fairly quiet time of it. I’ve told all my readers to go away and now the drama begins!
Well, today was a Saturday. I’d been told they would be switching the electricity off this morning for maintenance work, so I thought I would go to the beach first and then come back later and do the cleaning and maybe some writing.
Off I went, in fact, I plunged straight into the water today for my swim, then returned to my sunbed to read my book on the beach. It was the first time that I’d seen a kite surfer since I’d arrived; there were a few windsurfers as well, and it was good to see people coming to enjoy Sahl Hasheesh.
I got a little bit too hot, so I thought I would go snorkelling and take some more photos. This cooled me down considerably and I went to go back to my sunbed. I usually exit the water by the sandy bit where I get in to swim, but today I thought I would go via the closer but rockier part of the shoreline and just tread carefully. That was my mistake.
Somehow, I managed to tread on a very sharp stone. I got out of the water, looked at my foot, and there was blood. It then got more and more painful by the minute, it swelled and a hard white patch appeared by the wound. I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I sat on my sunbed nursing my foot and said “ouch” rather a lot of times. I was hoping the pain would subside, but it was just getting worse.
Fortunately, a Russian woman across from me, who turned out to be a medical doctor, asked if she could help, so she took a look at it and cleaned it with some fresh water for me. She advised me to disinfect it and get it seen by a doctor just in case something was stuck inside my foot.
I thanked her and said I would be able to get back to my home on my own (she was offering to come with me), but as I started walking, I realised it was too painful. An Egyptian guy was sitting in an electric golf buggy at the side of the path – I think he uses them to provide a taxi service or maybe he rents them out - so I went up to him, pointed at my foot and explained that I needed to get to El Andalous. He very kindly gave me a lift for free (and I feel guilty for not giving him a tip, but I didn’t have any small money with me).
From there, I made it into the building and then the staff at the desk helped me by calling the clinic. Those guys at the desk are great!
I was still saying “ouch!” a lot as it somehow made me feel as if I was doing something. Perhaps by expending energy on saying “ouch!”, I deflected my energy away from the ever-increasing pain. I was convinced the Egyptians were thinking I was just a wimpy foreigner.
Anyway, the clinic guys arrived and decided I needed to go to the main hospital in Hurghada rather than just the local clinic. They asked me to get on the stretcher, but it was rather high up and I wasn’t sure that I was strong enough to be able to yank myself up with my frozen shoulder. In the end they pretty much had to lift me up. They rolled me out on the stretcher and into the ambulance while all the shopkeepers came outside to have a look.
During the journey, they disinfected my foot, took my blood pressure, and gave me an injection (my first ever one in my bum!) that was supposed to help with the pain, but I can’t say I felt any difference whatsoever. The guy was kind enough to keep on distracting me from my foot, but I really just wanted to watch my foot continue swelling and bruising as a justification for me making such a fuss.
There was actually no waiting in the hospital and I was taken straight into X-Ray where they must have taken five or six shots of my foot at various angles. There was a rewarding “ooh!” from the staff as they first saw my foot. I was really cold – I am not sure if it was because of the air conditioning or due to shock. The consultant then came in and said the X Rays had shown that I had a small fissure in one of my bones and that he would bandage my foot.
I was subsequently wheeled into another room, where they gave me an infusion for around an hour. They said it was to take away the pain, but I’m not convinced because I didn’t notice any difference. I was still feeling very cold at this point and eventually managed to get someone to give me a blanket.
Maybe three-quarters of the way through, they came in to put the support and bandaging on my leg and I was surprised (and relieved) to hear it only had to be on for five days, when it would be swapped for something lighter. I’ve never broken a leg or anything and it was only now that I suddenly realised how awkward it will be to sleep with this thing on my leg – sleeping isn’t easy with my dodgy shoulder anyway, and now I had to contend with a bandaged foot as well.
After that, they gave me another injection in my bum to take away the pain. This time, I could feel a distinct difference. The pain was still there, but it was a fairly dull ache rather than something that really hurts.
Finally, they removed the infusion and gave me some crutches, plus several packs of pain killers (“you’ll need them,” the doctor said!). I looked at the crutches and wondered how I would manage relying on my shoulder. However, at the moment, I am sceptical about how much the crutches help. I can walk pretty well with the cast/bandage on (although resting is more comfortable, of course).
Payment was the really tricky issue. I had no cash on me and I didn’t have enough cash at home. They said they would take me to a cash machine, but then I remembered that my card got stolen with my purse that time and I hadn’t replaced it yet.
Also, my credit cards were in a state of confusion, as I had the new PIN of one and the new card of another, but I think the corresponding new card and new PIN, respectively, were both still at Markus’s.
I could have used my UK debit card, which I still have, and had planned on using once my money got low, but I would need to transfer funds over first.
Also, my company health insurance details were in my stolen purse (and I think I will be able to claim off the company insurance), so I didn’t have them with me. What a mess! I had no idea how many far-reaching implications that stolen purse would have.
I suggested electronic transfer, but they were obviously worried I wouldn’t pay, so they held my passport hostage. They will come and return my passport once my payment had gone through. But at least we had a solution everyone was happy with, although Saturday is the Muslim Sunday equivalent and then Sunday, of course, means that banks are closed in Europe. So it would be Monday before my payment could possibly go through.
Another issue is that there are different rates for tourists than for people who live there. However, because I'd been there only just over two weeks so far and hadn’t yet applied for my longer-term visa, I couldn’t be counted as living in Egypt and thus had to be charged in my home currency (GBP) and thus about ten times the Egyptian price, I would guess (or more, going by the extortionate price I was charged for the medications and the lowly price on the packs that I noticed only aftewards!). So, in terms of timing, it was unlucky.
It did not escape my notice that I would not be able to swim now for a while, but I comforted myself with the idea that I could devote that extra time to learning Arabic (how many times have I wished that I could speak Arabic!) and/or getting on with writing my books. A silver lining can usually be found somewhere.
I was taken back home in the ambulance on the stretcher, because this appeared to be the easiest way of transporting me. The guy in the ambulance, who had been there the whole time, from the beginning to the end, was very friendly and was obviously hoping for a tip (or a date!). He claimed he’d got me a big discount on my hospital charges, which I didn’t quite believe, but he had looked after me well and I do believe he tried to fight my corner.
Again, as we arrived and I was taken out on the stretcher, a crowd of shopkeepers was gazing on with great interest. The guy in the ambulance insisted on seeing me right to my door and hung round expectantly. I felt awful for not giving him anything, but I had only fairly large notes which I didn’t want to give or sort through as he watched. I said I would give him a tip when he brought my passport back, but he looked very disappointed and I felt very guilty. I hate all this tipping as I never get it right and always feel bad. I also have no clue how much I should give him as a tip. I don’t want to overdo it, but I don’t want to offend, either.
Also, on reflection, he is probably thinking he may miss me when he drops off my passport. However, I will be staying on my balcony most of the time until I get the lighter bandage, so I hope I do catch him.
It’s also difficult to know whether they overdid the amount of medications, x-rays, infusion, etc to get more money (at least my money will be going to serve the Egyptian hospital, which isn’t a bad thing), but most of the time I was just praying they would be able to get the pain to disappear, even if it meant chopping off my foot!
After taking the tablets with my meal that evening, I was happily and finally completely pain free. And my foot was still more-or-less intact.
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