The challenge

Sunday
I had to get up during the night to ice my foot, which was throbbing painfully and felt as if blood had pooled in the heel through the hole of the little bootie. Then I slept again, waking briefly to see Oswaldo go off to the opening ceremony of the congress. When I finally got up and considered my stiff, swollen foot, I realized I had to get it x-rayed. The taxi driver who drove us to the hospital, made the most of the our distracted state to use an old trick Oswaldo knows from Buenos Aires, claiming the 10 euro note we'd handed over was a false one. The old switch-a-roo - what a heartless Armenian (not Greek) jerk!
Moving on, the hospital was clean and quite empty and we were attended by a competent-looking Dr. Nikos, who spoke English. I was sent to x-ray, and when the pictures were ready I could see the porter and the technician, neither of whom spoke English,  muttering between themselves. I asked what they could see and the technician shook her head and said something in Greek with "Doctor" in the sentence. The porter took me back to the elevator and, once in it, opened the envelope and showed me the picture, pointing out the neat fracture (on the right in the photo).

"Broken?"I asked, making a cutting motion with my hands. He nodded cheerfully. So it was no surprise when Dr. Nikos came back with a long face and said my fibula was broken. Good news were that the bone was in place, bad news, however, and a huge surprise, was that I would not be able to put my foot down for the next 6 weeks - and of course not get into the sea. Then he asked me to turn over and quickly molded a plaster boot on my foot and lower leg. Done. Now what?

Wheelchair to the entrance where the hospital had called cab and where I got my first experience of being helpless and totally dependent on others as two men struggled to lug me into the front seat. This Greek cab driver was something of a hero - he drove all over trying to find an open pharmacy that sold crutches - but no luck. So we returned to the hotel room, where I hobbled heavily from door to couch, and so on.

We discovered the AVA room service was more than adequate and had a delicicous tray sent up, carried in by two cheerful women - the staff here is really wonderful -

which we enjoyed with Dan and a bottle of bubbly. It was the night of the opening ceremony held in the ancient Odeum, so Oswaldo and Dan had to go without me. Always in touch on our cells, Oswaldo reported throngs of people and many, many stairs. I would never have made it. 

When Oswaldo got back we went to sleep with many thoughts: the conference, what to do with me in Athens? what to do with the rest of the trip? And will the Brazilian travel insurance work? I had insisted on making one before we left. Oswaldo thinks this is why all of this happened :)