Just when we thought things were getting a little dull around here, a surprise illness and a visit from an ambulance turned things around.
Admittedly, lying on the sofa like a beached whale isn’t exactly how I envisaged my weekend, and I’m not particularly thrilled about missing the beach party I paid fifteen euros for. I’m on iron tablets to get my strength up (since my mum, who suffers from anaemia, has recognised the same symptoms in me) and am currently confined to my flat in hope of a speedy recovery.
Just to prove a point, I’ll make a mention of the dullness of last week. You know it’s a sign of boredom and/or lack of sleep when the class has to be paused so the lecturer can make you a cup of coffee - as happened to me on Tuesday. I think the sudden increase in workload is catching up on me; I’ve even had to succumb to taking power naps this week.
When I got back from German, I just had time to run into Mercadona before Agustina called me to take the measurements for the cooker, which she was finally getting around to ordering. On the plus side, all this time without an oven has proven how versatile microwaves can actually be.
At 3pm I met Ali and Valerie for the final push on our presentation. First I had to nip into the library to get out one of the books we’d used, since I’d somehow lost the page reference we needed to include in the project. As Valerie had been the one to get all the books out, I had to go through the embarrassment of registering with the library five months after arriving at the university here. The library staff couldn’t believe it. And as if I hadn’t been embarrassed enough, when we were sitting working in the canteen, one of my chair legs completely broke, like some kind of bizarre Shallow Hal moment where I am actually, despite appearances, horrendously obese.
On Wednesday the most exciting thing to happen amongst all the revision was my early-evening run. By this time (just after 6pm), I was getting sick of the same four walls so had to get out of the flat, despite the threatening dark clouds looming up ahead. Inevitably, the heavens opened and I got absolutely drenched, but I actually really enjoyed it. There was barely anyone about, and after my long day of sitting around I felt full of energy and completely liberated.
Thursday was the big day - the day we had to perform our linguistics presentation in front of over fifty people. The run-up to it was terrible, as we were the last group to go during the two-hour lecture. Not only that, but they had put the three Erasmus groups at the end, and by the time it got to us there were only fifteen minutes left to the lesson, meaning we had to rush. On the plus side, it did seem to go well, and we even got a few laughs - and at the appropriate moments too.
Methodology wasn’t on that day, leaving me with yet another afternoon stuck in the flat revising. After another much-needed power nap, I headed over to teaching. I do feel sorry for poor Gregorio, who really seems to struggle. He is only six years old, after all - an age at which I remember getting plenty of words wrong in my own language, let alone in a foreign one.
That evening we were finally going on a night out, so my friends came over at 11 to start pre-drinks. We left at about 1.30, when we went to try out a shots bar near to Badulake. Inevitably, we then ended up in Badulake, but only for around half an hour before moving on to Boutique and then to Musik, a cool underground sort of place in the old bull ring. Hearing Garbage played in a club was a nice surprise (and made the place infinitely better than another one of those venues relying on the assumption that Mr Brightside and Don’t Stop Me Now will always go down well with the intoxicated and indoctrinated global public).
In Musik, along with some slightly odd people and a lesbian who wouldn’t leave me alone, who should we bump into but Andy and Felicity, the English teachers. We left with them not long afterwards and ended up at a slightly creepy secret club in one of the backstreets, where we had to knock on the door and be approved before entering. When we left we got shushed by the bouncer for giggling and making too much noise, which might ruin the place’s secrecy. It was all very cult and cool.
On Friday morning, I got up at around 11.30 to go and meet my language exchange, José, for the first time. I was feeling a little worse for wear, having only got in at 6am, but it was nothing I hadn’t been through before. We’d been chatting for around an hour and a half when I suddenly realised something was wrong, and asked him to order the bill whilst I hurried to the toilets to be sick.
I was walking through the cafe when suddenly my vision went completely black and I collapsed to the floor. When I opened my eyes, a policeman and a policewoman were standing over me, the policeman lifting my legs into the air. They asked me what had happened and called an ambulance straight away. Poor José looked completely at a loss, and when the police started talking about taking me to hospital I knew I had to call someone. I can rely on my friends here for absolutely anything and had no hesitation in calling Alicia, who was there in a flash.
As soon as Alicia got there I assured José I’d be fine and that he could go. I can’t imagine he’d been mentally prepared for this; he will probably never go on a language exchange again, the poor thing. I apologised profusely for destroying his otherwise peaceful morning coffee and said I’d get the bill, but he said he’d already covered it - so not only had he probably had the worst cafe experience of his life, but he’d had to pay for it too. I thought about offering to pay next time but reconsidered as the prospect of having to meet up with such a walking disaster again would probably make him feel even worse.
When the medics arrived, they asked me all my details and got Alicia to write down my name (since they didn’t even know where to begin trying to work out the spelling). Then they helped me onto a wheelchair and took me to the ambulance, where they moved me onto a stretcher and lifted me into the back. A series of tests and questions later, they were telling me that the only thing they could recommend was to eat, drink and sleep.
As Alicia and I were making our way to the police van which was going to take us to my flat, Lina came running over. Just then I spotted Ali on the bench reading, and Alicia ran over to tell her what was going on. The police man and woman were lovely but I just didn’t have it in me to have a conversation with them on the journey, and left Alicia to do the talking. For some reason, both the police woman and the female medic had complemented me on my nail varnish, as though my pretty nails could be seen as the silver lining to all this. Or maybe they were just trying to take my mind off things. Either way, I guess it was a nice thought. Anyway, fifteen minutes later Alicia was helping me up the stairs to my flat, and Giorgos came running down to meet us. Alicia had called him and he’d run home to find my EHIC card in case I had to go into hospital, so he was probably expecting much worse.
He helped me onto the sofa and gave me glasses of water and juice (for the sugar content, in case my blood sugar was low). No one could understand why it had happened. Not long afterwards, while Giorgos was searching the cupboards for anything he could give me containing sugar or salt, Ali and Lina arrived as well. It felt as though I might as well be in hospital with everyone sitting around me like it was visiting time. Everyone was so lovely, fetching me everything I could possibly need. Lina and Alicia even went to the chinos and bought me more juice, sweets and chocolate (for medical reasons, and just to cheer me up).
They stayed for over an hour before I told them I should probably try and get some sleep. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur; I spent most of it trying, and failing, to be sick, because I knew that that was what I needed to do. I managed to get in touch with my mum, who said the blackout sounded exactly the same as what she used to experience before she was diagnosed with anaemia. Giorgos brought me back some iron tablets to see if they would help.
Bedtime came as a huge relief, but it was far from the rest I’d hoped for. The pain in my stomach was so unbearable I was still wide awake when Giorgos came in at around 5.30. It was two hours later when I finally managed to get some sleep, waking up again at 12.30. By this stage I was feeling a little better; the pain in my stomach had gone and I no longer felt like I needed to vomit. After a bit of breakfast and a shower I still felt weak and had to accept that it would be stupid to go to the beach party that evening, especially as the beach was so remote and had no mobile phone signal.
I’m glad I did decide to sit tight and recover because even a quick walk down to the shops early that evening seemed exhausting. Alicia phoned at just after 9 from the beach party to check I was ok, and it turned out the beach party hadn’t been a beach party at all; as soon as everyone got off the coach, the police arrived and disbanded the entire thing. They’d ended up driving around for an hour trying to find a spot for the barbecue and the party, before eventually stopping at the house of one of the friends of the organisers. It sounded like a disaster.
The next day all I did was stay in and watch endless episodes of Game of Thrones and Сверхъестественное, which I’m definitely counting as some kind of language revision. By the evening I was sick of the same four walls and met my friends for a Smoöy - tragically, the most exciting outing of my weekend. At least the worst was over and I could start the new week afresh, ready for my exam on Thursday.
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