Being Ill in Bulgaria

Seeing people of my own age around me draws me to compare health. Of course you can't tell how healthy a person is just by looking at them. however you can see how they walk, posture and general body language to give you clues to their wellbeing. One of my great pastime is people watching anyway so when my focus is on someone akin to my age there is bound to be comparisons with myself.

We all have been ill at some point and now it was my turn for a change. Pain is something I can bear when I am in control such as pushing myself physically on my bike or cycling, but pain caused by illness is at the very least an intolerable scenario.

As you get older you put up with aches and pains, it grows upon you gradually that is acceptable it is a message reminding you you're getting older and can't run around like a spring chicken anymore. That doesn't mean you become stagnant, just more careful with excursions for example proper warming up and warming down before and after exercising or thinking first before running for a bus or picking up that heavy box. It took some painful experiences to come to terms with that way.

Well now back in Bulgaria and putting up with a painful left hand for months, which I put down to a history of tension initially taking up the viola after puberty, (long story). Then working in Bulgaria full time in a boiler factory in Bulgaria back in 2007, basically with an active drill in my hand 8 hours a day (I'm left handed). The latter did the most damage. I started up the piano again for a least and hour a day a few months ago and the left hand was giving me problems with tension and stress which gradually got worse, but I persevered. Perhaps I should have read the signs and given it a break. On top of this my cycling requires hours on end of grip on the handlebars, which doesn't do the wrist any favours especially when the weather turned a little damper and colder. So come the end of November it wasn't very comfortable at all.

The Barrels That Did The Damage

27th November arrived and it was the evening before Rakia Making Day. I had to help get two big barrels full of fermented wine out of my garage and onto a van. It was a cold evening pouring with rain and I had been waiting for half an hour for the van to arrive on the street in these condition. A cold man with no head cover or gloves and soaked through with the thought of rakia making motivating him. The van duly arrived and as I began to lift the first barrel my left wrist cracked under the strain accompanied with a sharp dagger like pain. I worked through the pain on the second barrel and struggled with four heavy sacks of wood. That was it I thought, give it a rest overnight and will be fine in the morning. That evening I took a couple of paracetamol and an early night to bed for a 5:30 rise in the morning and very excited for the Rakia Making Day ahead.

The following morning on waking up before the alarm, I should have gone to the Doctor, but with the excitement and adrenalin of Rakia making in front of me I pushed through the pain and got through the process one-handed, including the driving to the village. It didn't end there, the pain was becoming very close to intolerable now and apples had to be peeling and cut to add to the fresh rakia crying out for them. Galia insisted she should do it but being the fool I am for some reason I have a compulsion for self-suffering and a steeped history for working through pain just for the hell of the challenge. The apples were duly albeit painfully prepared and my left wrist was now transformed into constant pain rather than intermittent with movement. Something quite wrong there now I thought. Still I will rest it overnight and tomorrow with no plans to do anything. It will be fine.

Bed at 11:00 and the pain now was constant increasing to the degree I couldn't sleep no matter what position my hand was in. By 02:30 I was at the end of my tether end and in tears with pain. The wrist was compressed by wrapping in a pair of socks around it to support, but that made no difference. The agony now was completely out of my control and that's where the decision was made to visit the hospital. But I was feeling light-headed and dizzy almost to the point of passing, so I reluctantly had to wake Galia who was in a deep sleep next to me for assistance.

A&E My First Hospital Call 2:30 am

A taxi was called and we arrived at the local hospital some 10 minutes later. I was seen immediately and examined thoroughly by a team of at least four Doctors in attendance with three nurses in turn. I was laid down on a bed and put on a drip for three hours. I was shaking from cold and nerves as they mentioned that I might be suffering from a stroke!! Bloody Hell was my reaction to that, after all the fitness I do and this? Can't be! I was left to ponder that for quite some time. During this time I was distracted by an argument right by the side of the bed I was lying on with a Gypsy Mother and Daughter demanding a prescription off the Doctor. The argument lasted ages and was very heated in the end they were ordered out of the treatment rooms and had to wait until the day shift started to be served. I found out that this was common that Gypsies often come at night with a free taxi service and free treatment and drugs just because they are treated differently to Bulgarians. they take advantage of this and when given the free drugs sell them on for 100% profit. We (or should I say Bulgarians) have to pay for taxis, medical treatment and prescriptions!) This incident however didn't detract me too much with the pain I was in and the shaking continued.

Second Hospital for X-Ray

5:00 in the morning and it was a transfer to another hospital, (with a taxi we paid for!) for an x-ray. This hospital was where Galia's Nephew works who I cycle with on occasion. We turned up and an x-ray was made within 10 minutes. Then it was another hospital for an examination from another specialist with addition tests to be made. Another taxi taken and now the third hospital in the space of 12 hours.

Third Call Yambol's Polyclinic

Whilst waiting to be seen, there were six other parties there all with the same appointment time of 16:30 to see one Doctor. How was that? I was examined and told that there was no stroke but probably just an infection and further blood tests would be taken early tomorrow morning. I was given a prescription two series of injections, (hate those!) one set of tablets, and a powder compound to be mixed with water and drunk. All this cost money including the visits and Doctors seen with tomorrow the promise of more costs. No avoiding this unless you are a Gypsy apparently. Doesn't matter that I'm British and paid National Insurance throughout my working life not that I expect any special treatment as a Brit. 

Current Medication!

Another night but this time I slept well after a bout of two injections one on each cheek and other prescribed medicine. I  was told no food or drink in the morning prior to the planned hospital tests and duly adhered to instructions turning up with a rumbling stomach. 

Fees paid for blood and urine specimen test although only blood was taken even though we paid for both. the queuing system here is absolute chaos and only though who have no scruples about running up to the treatment room get seen first. A classic case seen here where an overweight man crawled up the corridor as if it was his last walk on earth, then once the surgery door open he was an Olympic Athlete sprinted to the door and getting in before those who had been waiting for their turn. I find it strange that no one complains. I have been told to just keep quite in these situations as many Bulgarians are prejudice on finding out I'm English in confrontational situations. This advice has kept me out of trouble for years even though it is difficult not to express an opinion seeing what goes on..

The blood test was good, all normal, a relief and it was now time to continue with the given drugs and become a passive person for a week. No fitness, no piano, no work on repairs or rebuilding my bike and no driving. Difficult!

The Cost!

I'm feeling a lot better now, but am reminded again about how old I am and how I should behave. The total cost of this episode amounted to over 100 BG Lev. You just can't afford to be ill here without private health insurance which is something I cam considering right now. But will it get overlooked and on the backburner when I am fit again? Probably......That's what the vast majority of people do here in Bulgaria anyway, take it as it comes, they just don't have disposable income for a, What if?', scenario on health.

So now when I people watch and see individuals my age and compare health, I know that at any point in time health can change without warning, that doesn't stop you trying to look after yourself though to reduced the risk factor which I will continue to do. Beside I feel that investment in fitness is cheaper than investment in health insurance which I can 'Ill afford,' on my small pension here.

Bulgarians Ill in Winter

Everyone seems to be ill in Bulgaria during the winter, colds, flu, headaches, you name it they've all come down with something recently. This happens every winter here, I think I know why.

In the winter many just stay indoor unless it is essential that a trip has to be made. Going to work the buses are crowded with all the windows shut. In the work places, the air-conditioning circulates the germs in a air trapped environment. In the Post Offices, Banks and other utility payment places, the waiting in queues with virus filled people seems never ending. These queues are tightly packed, you will often get someone breathing down your neck wherever you queue here. It is no wonder that sickness is at its prime during the winter.

The amount of money spend on drugs is almost on par with the cost of food. I often wonder why there are so many chemists in Yambol, perhaps this is the reason, to cope with the demands that are set upon them in the winter months. Aspirin, paracetamol, throat lozenges, cough syrups, but none as popular than the rakia which is frequently being dipped into as a winter medicine. The 46 litres of 42% proof rakia that was made a few months ago is now down to 30 litres and counting. I dread to think how people cope without rakia. Certainly not making your own would add substantially to the chemists' profits and the increased poverty stricken communities here.

So why haven't I been ill every winter? I can't remember having anytime when I have had a virus, cold or flu since being here. Everyone else around me is dropping like ninepins and the Englishman seems to be immune from all the bugs that are going around. It's not as if I do anything different from anyone else apart from recently taking up jogging again. I'm indoors all day, I queue for hours and use the sardine buses and I also am subjected to air-conditioning environments all day. So why am I in perfect health each winter?

It's a mystery, I don't have an answer and neither do the coughing and spluttering people around me. Galia and Baba both have picked up colds over the last couple of days, Ivo is expected to fall with it any day now and there's me off jogging for an hour. I feel quite guilty about my good health, but then not going jogging wouldn't help matters either.

Spring is only a few weeks away now, the 1st March should just about have seen us through this Bulgarian winter and the illnesses that go with it. March 1st of course is another big day, it's another Imen Den (Name Day), the biggest name day of the year. Have you guessed what it is yet?

The Answer is Always Food in Bulgaria

Thanks to all those who sent get well messages.

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Whenever I am ill, for whatever reason, unless suffering form malnutrition of course, I lose my appetite. Either I don’t eat at all of very little; it’s just the way I am illness just make me lose my appetite. Being ill is rare for me anyway so the abstaining of food doesn’t happen that often, well actually it is never allowed to happen here in Bulgaria with the food driven society, in a country called the bread bucket of Europe. Every couple of hours there is food pile driven your way by Baba, it has been well documented since I have been here.

So with my slipped disc, there is another move along the Bulgarian learning curve. Whatever your disposition, food is the answer. Whether your fit or ill you have to eat and eat lots and often if you are a man. It is a constant battle fighting off food every minute of the day. The longer I go without food the more intense the food fight becomes, how ironic that this continuous food being making me mentally ill!

This morning two or three times an hour, every hour, I get approached with food on a plate that I had already said I don’t want and then there is a little sulk as it gets taken away again. Later in the morning another tactic, I get a peeled and sliced apple handed to me.

I say, “Thanks you very much, but I don’t feel like food right now.”

The comment replied was, “It’s not food it’s an apple!” I laugh and it hurts.

It is almost like being force fed but not quite there; it gets to the point where I get angry as the effort it takes to keep refusing is immense and with back pain always there my temper rises slightly into a nervous laughter just like after the apple comment and laughter really hurts when you have a slipped disc.

Surely it would be better to just accept the food and be done with it is what I sometimes think. The pressure to take this route is tremendous and would solve everyone’s frustrations expect mine, after all, it is my choice whether to eat or not. Or is it?

The whole idea by trying to get me to eat, I know, is to try and get me better They firmly believe that eating lots of food is the best route to take when you are ill, evenif you are overweight. This is understandable and I know that they are 100% behind trying to the best they possibly can for me, unfortunately they don’t just have a difficult patient, but an English one.

Welcome Home to Bulgaria Sylvia

Monday morning and Galia and I can hardly move, as the muscles in our bodies seemed to have been through ten rounds in a boxing ring and we were the losers. Why?

It all started with Galia’s niece turning up in Bulgaria, she had been working as a nurse in Greece for the last four years. She had decided to come back to Bulgaria and a home welcoming evening was organised at a Yambol restaurant last Saturday evening. In attendance were Galia, her niece (the nurse) another niece of Galia’s, plus another friend of the family. The scenario is set for four beautiful women and myself out for the evening and the best part of the morning., We partied on until we dropped, how fortunate am I and Sylvia insisted she paid for the whole evening! She had been earning ‘real money’ in Greece, not the pittance given out in wages to employees in Bulgaria - After all, that’s exactly why here and millions of other work abroad.

We all met at 7:30 in a well-known Bulgarian restaurant and the eating and drinking began. Four years away and Sylvia had lots to talk about with her experiences working in Greece. My goodness can she talk, Bulgarian are renown for their non-stop talking and conversation, but this to date was the most incessant example I had experienced since coming here. Four Bulgarian women talking all night, not much food was eaten, too much talking for that, but quite a bit of rakia was downed throughout the night, Sylvia loves rakia, she couldn’t get it in Greece and was making up for time.

We were due to attend a retro music discothèque after the restaurant, as Galia and myself took off to make a reservation at around 9:30. But to our disappointment it was fully booked and we had to think of alternative plans after we had got back to the talking, salads and Rakia.

During the course of out restaurant stay, I was fortunate to meet the Head coach of the Bulgarian National Basketball team, I had met Ivan once before on the 'St. George' Name Day party in Yambol's big Diana Park in the summer. Lovely chap, but he was letting his hair down tonight with friends, he still smokes with his left hand and rakia held in the right as I remember from before.

Sylvia was a stressed Bulgarian woman this evening, it showed as she couldn’t get her words out fast enough – she wanted to get it all off her chest. She told tales of how badly she had been treated in Greece by the men who have no respect fro their own women let alone Bulgarian women. She spent most of her time indoors tending the sick. Never had hardly any time off and what time was off was spent sleeping recovering from the workload. She never wants to go back there again and realises that money is important but there is no quality of life doing what she was doing away from family. She intends to work in Bulgaria but won’t even think about work until the New Year – she needs time to recover mentally from the experience. Galia and I know exactly what she is going through on that scale.

We had some musical visitors; a local village called Kabile has a Gypsy band. They came in to perform well-known Bulgarian songs but in Gypsy style arrangements that involved a lot of unified singing (shouted in the main) with a rhythm that never stops. The band consists of an accordion, two clarinets, a violin and two drummers. They were loud, brash and full of energy and they were still playing gone midnight as we left.

We went to another restaurant with more live music, this time Bulgarian/Greek/Gypsy style with the Gypsy element on keyboard the Greek on the bouzouki and Bulgarian sung by the very big male vocalist. We spent the rest of the evening now on beer and dance with a little meze on the table.

The dancing just went from strength to strength with music just calling and wanting to be danced to. This of course was expected from everyone who dined there as the lines of Bulgarians with traditional dance steps were made throughout the evening.

We finally finished at gone 3:00 in the morning and in bed just before 4:00 after walking a few kilometres in the crisp clear Yambol air. We never get drunk of course, there is far too much dancing to ever get that close, besides it isn’t the Bulgarian way to do this.

A night out with my Bulgarian family was an absolute pleasure, we are all glad to see Sylvia back in Bulgaria, but as we all know here, she will need time to recover from being away, this is important for tonight we knew she wasn’t at all right from the experience of being away from her homeland.

As for us, well we all know now why it is painful to move today, the dancing we did would merits a marathon! We probably lost weight that evening!