It is Sunday and on La Palma a half marathon takes place. In beautiful weather, just 18 ° C, so ideal for running, we watch the event, stroll along the promenade that after a small loop ultimately leads to the finish.
|Finish Half Marathon Santa Cruz de La Palma|
We discover the "Real Castillo de Santa Catalina", a fortress that was supposed to protect against pirate attacks in the 17th century. From here we have a beautiful view of the home stretch and the finish. We sit on the warm black walls and look into satisfied faces that have made it to the finish line after 21 kilometers. In the meantime, the thermometer rises above 20°C again and a pleasant warmth develops in the sun. In the restaurants and bars, the participants sit with their families and friends and tell how they fared on the course. The atmosphere reminded me a lot of the time when I was running and made me want to try it again. But at the moment I am still far away from being able to perform like that.
|Half Marathon Santa Cruz de La Palma|
I still feel slack and listless. The sense of taste is still not there and a persistent cough won't go away. In addition, something is wrong with my left leg. After a long overcoming phase and good coaxing from Gaby, we go to the "Centro Salud Santa Cruz de La Palma", the public health center of La Palma. After a somewhat difficult patient admission, without health insurance card probably not very many private patients come here, I am, after I have paid, a nice nurse and a nice doctor led. Since Spanish is not my native language, communication is very difficult, since the other side, which was not to be expected, does not speak German. Also with English it struggles clearly, but everyone tries their best. An initially suspected thrombosis is ruled out, and no one knows at the moment why the leg hurts so much. Therefore, the next day, I am first invited to have my blood taken in order to perhaps identify possible causes. At the main entrance I am intercepted by a friendly assistant who first looks for my name in his list. Having found it, he smiles at me and sends me to the second floor. Due to the Corona concept, the waiting rooms are closed and so we all find ourselves in a queue on the stairs. The second floor is the end of the line for me, so it takes me half an hour to get to the second floor. Here the paperwork is done first. I hand the doctor's assistant my documents, which I had received the day before, and she gets terribly and loudly upset that her predecessor had stapled everything together. I smile kindly at her and, mollified, she presses three tubes into my hand, which I use to get back in line. Surprisingly calm by my standards, since I'm not big on blood, but the worst part for me is imagining a needle being pushed into a vein. So I also get more and more anxious the closer I get to the open lab door. When I see the nurse from yesterday, it's a load off my mind, because the injections she gave me yesterday were almost not noticeable. Taking blood is no problem either - I'm just a real "Mimi" - but I'm still glad that it's over. Now it's time for breakfast and we sit in a bar, drink coffee and eat a ham panini.
|Real Castillo de Santa Catalina|
At the moment, Gaby gives me a heparin injection every day, obviously with pleasure, and I take an anti-inflammatory. As a reward, I always get a bar of chocolate after each injection. After two days, the pain is better and walking is no longer so difficult. So things are looking up again. Next week I will get the blood results and then we will see. On board, the routine continues and everything is fine. The engine is checked and put into operation again for a short time. Power supply via solar and wind power is still ok, although we don't need both at the moment, since we are connected to shore power. Due to my immobility we watch the ships in the harbor as they are unloaded and reloaded and hope that next week we will be a bit more mobile again. In this sense, as always, fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.