Holly’s Surgery Journey Day 9 & 10

Following the horrendous end to Day 8, I made a slow rise for Day 9, the last day in Thessaloniki. Tomorrow I head back to Athens by train. 

Day 9

Ifi was coming around 11 am for drainage and I lazed in bed until 10 at least before removing my compression and showering.  But this was the first time that I stood and did it on my own! Well, partially stood. I did get a tad weak at one point and plopped my arse down on the little blue tiled edge for a minute, once or twice.  But I was vertical for the most part, which is a win in my books.

Ifi came and it was the most relaxing session yet. Barely any painful squeezing. She told me to take it easy that day and we would fit in one more early morning session tomorrow just before I head out for the train.  I felt this was important since I would not get another for several days until arriving home. I told her I was worried about the swelling during travel and she said I should buy a paint roller to massage my limbs during the trip.

We had to be at Esea Clinic for my final check in with Dr. S at 2:30. Traci was worried we would be late because although it’s just a five-minute walk from the apartment,  I am still not accounting time for my zombie-like trudge through overcrowded streets. We made it, albeit just a few minutes late and a few breaths short. 

Dr. S was there and the poor man was masked and completely worn out. He told us his little boy had been sick the week before and it seemed to have caught him. Still as warm and generous as ever with his time, he sat with us to answer all of my remaining questions.  I asked for additional pain medication to get me through the next days of travel and he arranged it with the pharmacy next door immediately.  We chatted about what to expect in the weeks to come, what to do and not to do. For example, to continue to eat much protein and to ensure to take it easy. He reminded me of the trauma my body has been through and that I should not expect to exercise for at least six weeks. He said people tend to overdo it when they start to feel better in a few weeks and this is a big mistake.  I promised to take care of myself.

Traci and I headed out for my last errand: bookmarks. She had found a place around the corner near the waterfront that wasn’t far. This time, however,  she wasn’t feeling the best, and my legs were also rather weak.  We made it there and headed straight back to the apartment for another rest. 

I did make one stop along the way though. I had noted to Traci earlier that I hadn’t seen soup on any of the menus, and she agreed.  Of course,  then I wanted soup. We did a double-take when we saw it written on a chalkboard sidewalk sign, and I took some to go. Again, not quite the same as soup I am used to, but it was filled with yummy veggies and with a little salt it hit the spot.

We napped into the evening and finally forced ourselves to pack up late that night. We have never really adjusted to the time change here and find ourselves often up at 1 or 2 am. We did our best to get as much done as possible because the morning would mean a quick exit to the train and away from Thessaloniki. 

Here’s hoping our exit is smoother than our entry.

XoXo

Day 10 – Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.

I am beginning to think Dr. S may have taken out my sense of timing, along with the lipedema.  Today began bright and early, tidying up the Airbnb and waiting for Ifi to give me the last drainage session.  We had discussed it being 7:45 but she ran about 10 minutes late. We wanted to be on time for the train and had intended to leave immediately after the session,  just after 9 am. On top of that, we had completely forgotten to buy the paint roller Ifi has suggested,  so Traci ran out to get one during my massage. 

I was still feeling swelling,  even after the session,  and thought it best to wear my least tight compression so that there was a little give. I also packed some strips of lipofoam around the waistband since, on my worst days, that’s  where it cuts into me the most. After hugs and goodbyes, Ifi left us and Traci and I scrambled to get out. I reminded her that the departure time was 10:04 and we were at 9:20.  We headed to the tiny elevator, which, if I haven’t mentioned are ridiculously tiny everywhere in Greece, where we would barely be able to squeeze ourselves in with our two suitcases. We waited.  It went past us by 4 floors then opened full and closed without us. We waited. Again, the same. The next time it stopped below us and went back down. I was ready to scream. By now it was nearly 9:30. 

Finally we caught a break and it arrived empty.  We locked the keys in the lockbox and tried to find the nearest taxi. Of course, the traffic was insane, and I felt like I held my breath until we arrived at the station at 9:47 am.

Next, we had to figure out where to go. The place was swarming with people going in every which direction and we couldn’t spot an info booth or worker there to save our life. Naturally, all of the signage was in Greek. We followed the swarms towards the train tracks but were not sure if it was the correct one, or which car we were supposed to be on. We seemed to get different dismissive answers in broken English from each person we asked.  We followed one set of directions all the way to the end, with me hobbling behind Traci at as fast a pace as I could muster, only to hear down there that it should be the car at the complete opposite end. We pushed our way back up, feeling the pressure of the minutes ticking by, and arrived at the first car. None of the cars had train employees outside their doors, as in Canada, and no one helped us with our heavy bags as we hoisted them in or directed us to where we should sit. 

In the cabin we believed to be ours, a man was sitting there who told us our seat numbers didn’t quite match our ticket because apparently it was a different train, but that the cabin was correct. We asked where we should put our luggage and he said the conductor would be by soon to help us. So, we stacked them and waited. Meanwhile,  the man had already had enough of us and changed cabins without utttering another word.

Traci and I settled in and I rested my already swollen legs on top of the suitcases.  Minutes later, the conductor,  a sour-faced man in his sixties, entered the cabin to scan our tickets. He screwed up his face at each of us, pointing at the luggage and muttering something I am sure we are better off not knowing.  We stated that no one had helped us or told us where to put it. “Follow,” he demanded, aggressively pointing his hand and offering zero help as Traci jumped up to pull both suitcases behind her. She returned a few minutes later saying we would have to pay to get them at the end of the line. 

I blew up my inflatable leg cushion and Traci and I both settled back for the 5-hour ride. We were in Class A, a cabin with 4 seats, and were joined by a nice, elderly lady who kept to herself. Our energy was so low that we dozed through the bulk of the ride, although the parts we saw were certainly not the scenic parts of Greece. Dry,  flat land and graffitied buildings filled the windows, overall. However, I was grateful to have the space to put my legs on the inflatable and to walk around a little. 

When we made it to Athens and retrieved our luggage for 10 euros, we needed to get a taxi to the hotel. Again, no one looked approachable, and people pushed passed us as if we weren’t there. Outside, a man came over saying “taxi” and when I said yes, and the name of the hotel, he turned and walked away. The entire area looked disorganized and I told Traci I was using Uber to ensure we knew the car and could input our location. 

Thankfully, a cheerful man arrived to take us to Hotel Avra Rafina. It was a 50 euro ride because it was very close to the airport.  As the car made it’s way through the busy city, we were more than happy to be heading away from it. We did not get to take in any of the beautiful,  historic sites, but we were ready to be heading closer to home.

We arrived to find a treat of a hotel on the water, modern, clean, and had a room with two twin, soft, comfy beds. We were famished, having eaten nothing but a bun all day, and our sweet, young waiter was originally American, so we could communicate with ease. Even the food resembled our familiars, and I inhaled grilled salmon while Traci devoured braised beef. 

We headed to the room and although it was just after 6pm, I took my pain pills and collapsed in bed, sleeping for three and a half hours and waking famished once more. I headed back to the dining room and was helped back to my room by the sweet waiter, caring my plate of home fries. I was in heaven.  

Now, with belly full once more, Traci and I are ready for our last night of sleep in Greece to rest for the long trek home. I have done all I can do to prepare, and I am hoping for the best. Almost there!

XoXo