Back Inaction

My dad has many sayings, one of which is, "A clear sky is not afraid of storms." He obviously hasn't been in Greece recently.

I caught a cold. Actually my back caught a cold. In medicine, I am used to Western meeting Eastern ideologies, methods and practices, trying to find the balance between both mindsets. Here, it's more like Western meets Old World.

Last Thursday I met a family friend for coffee in the neighborhood she used to live in, Nea Smyrni. We met early, before noon, and I awoke to find blue sky. I did my daily routine, turn on the hot water heater, make coffee, enjoy it while overlooking the sea, and finish with a quick mopping of the inside and the veranda. (There is a lot of dust that accumulates, and depending on the direction of the wind--clouds can move in a different one each day--I've even cleaned up red sand from the veranda. They say that's the stuff that comes from Egypt.) I got dressed and made my way across the street for the 20 minute tram ride.

The main square or πλατεία in Nea Smyrni has overtime become pedestrian only. It's a lovely scene. The noise you hear is from people or the rare μηχανάκι making it's way, but never cars or their horns. It's tiered; the steps add their own dimension to the layout. In the center are aqua blue pools with working fountains, surrounded by seating areas of different cafes. Of course I love the free wifi (why is this not everywhere?). I also love that I see all ages here; there's something about that quality in a neighborhood that I really like. And there is lots of shopping nearby. I was urged to return at night to take in the lights (light show? light show?). All in all it's a great little city center and a perfect place to meet. We found a cafe overlooking a fountain, ordered our coffees, and started in on my favorite main course--good conversation.

And suddenly, we weren't sure what hit us. Neither was anyone else who was nearby. Frantic servers started flipping chair cushions. Older people scrambled for cover. Younger people, well they really didn't change their behavior much. We huddled over our table a bit closer as we watched the sky close and the rain beat down, straight down. I was wearing a white scarf, a black dress, red lips, and thankfully closed toe shoes. I did not remove my sunglasses.

As we continued to talk, what I hadn't realized was that my back was getting wet due to an opening in the umbrella. The rains would come in waves, pouring more down and then less. We wrapped the conversation. As soon as a break came, we bid each other farewell and off to the tram I went.

But I had plans for that day. I made them while on the veranda sipping coffee (that's also part of the routine). I was to walk home. It only takes about an hour, and I get to learn a new part of the city. I decided to hop the tram to escape the weather and get off early, weather permitting. At least I could stop by the grocery store and still get in a short walk. Athens isn't Paris, meaning that whatever amount of time you walk, you're bound to go up and down some hills. So I did. About an hour later, I got home, changed, and had lunch. And that night the pain set in. You'll pardon the pun, but that wasn't in the forecast.

It's now six days later. I'm lying on a bed with an electric heater between me and the sheets. I've never known the pain I've felt over the last several days. I cannot move easily. I cannot stand from being seated without pain and time. Σιγά σιγα is my only pace. I tried going for a walk on Saturday in the park behind my cousins' house. Uphill wasn't happening, so I threw it in reverse like a college tour guide to get myself to the nearest bench. Oh if only Athens had the poop scoop laws we have in the States--but I navigated expertly. My niece doesn't understand why I can't put her on my shoulders like we both enjoy; though she had no problems climbing on me while I lay prostrated on her couch (her dad called me her victim, but I was really just a sitting duck). Should I step uniquely, should the car I'm riding in come to a quick stop without my preparation, should I try to move as I am accustomed, I feel like someone is putting a dagger in my lower left back.

All because my back caught a cold.

My Does-It-All-Auntie took me to the doctor. In his 50s, Doc has liquid brown eyes and grey hair that had more salt than pepper. Showing grave concern for a young lady with no health issues, he performed tests. When he checked my reflexes, I actually giggled. He reassured me there's no problem with my central nervous system, but a set of local nerves have been agitated due to a muscle spasm. The muscle was the one that got wet last Thursday. He prescribed drugs. I'm taking them. I feel better. A few more days and I'll be at 100%.

I am reminded that my health is the most previous thing I have. I am lucky that this too shall pass. I am grateful that the only chronic condition I have is laughing too loud (my niece has reminded me of this more than once). I am blessed that this happened now and not in Paris, and that Do-It-All makes time in her day to make me comfortable. I know I'll be back in action soon. I guess dad was right. A clear sky really isn't afraid of storms.