We've been here nearly two weeks now, and it had taken most of that time for me to become adjusted to the new time zone; it's seven hours earlier here than at home (see clocks in my sidebar). We have both been sleeping poorly and late. But we seem to be pretty well over the jet lag by now.
Christos, although not in danger of dying immediately, is nevertheless in danger, and if his situation cannot be improved, he will not last long.
We are perplexed, stymied, by the difficulty of getting him to take the necessary steps. He has procrastinated for two years now going to any of his doctors. Two years ago he did buy the prescribed medications, but he never took them. He was emphysema, but will not stop smoking. He is severely dehydrated, yet will go all day without drinking more than a third of a cup of anything. How to help someone who won't help himself, even to that small extent?
Yet, there are at least two positive developments. One is that Demetrios has taken him to two specialists so far, with a follow-up appointment tomorrow, I think. A battery of tests is also being run. (Demetrios says his weakness is too dramatic to be accounted for by emotions alone.)
The second positive news is that Christos is going to move back into town, where he will be nearer his doctors, his sons, his friends, and us. He will have more company and it will be easier for us or anybody else to, say, bring him a meal or otherwise care for him. The move will also save him a bit of money, as the rent he will pay will be more than made up for by his using less gasoline and having much lower heating costs. He has lucked into the same flat he lived in once before. He will now only have 10 stairs to climb instead of 20 or so where he is now.
Meanwhile, the doves have understood we are back. I wasn't going to start putting out food for them this time, as the result is that the balcony needs more cleaning. But the doves come and stare at us, so I do put out some once a day, which the sparrows also come to share.
Lorraine, the Englishwoman who owns the mimi market across the street from us, teased me: "I knew you were here when the Greek flag appeared on your balcony. All I could think of was, the Queen is in residence; fly the flag!"
Okay. My trouble is in persuading my subjects!
Last night we went to the home of Ioannis the theologian and his wife, Mena for the bi-weekly theological discussion we began last year. The topic was the relationship between soul and body. The point that struck me most was that, just as a body without the soul is not a human being, neither is a soul without a body a human being; it's just a soul.
For the past couple of days, I've been humming that old Evangelical hymn, He Leadeth Me; don't know why.
He leadeth me, o blessed thought!
O words with heav'nly comfort fraught!
Where'er I go, where'er I be,
Still by His hand He leadeth me.
Did you catch that? What have we here? We have a blessed thought. We have comforting words. When it's a mere concept, you have to keep thinking and saying it.
He leadeth me! He leadeth me!
BY His own hand He leadeth me.
His faithful foll'wer I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me!
I've done a fair bit of knitting while Demetrios was with his brother at medical appointments. I finished the scarf for Kelly, my oldest granddaughter; here it is. I've also, as en experiment, made a so-called "eternity scarf", which is to say a knitted moebius strip, but I think that needs its own post!