Javi and San Cecilio

 

I’m learning a lot about Grace, and Kindness.

 

This morning at 6.30am, we left my house and arrived an hour later at San Cecilio hospital in Granada. I thought I was going for an X-ray for a throat condition, but it turned out to be a bit of an endurance test, with some  moments of pure pantomime, and unexpected  joy.

 

First was the blood test in the hospital basement at 8am, well, 8.30 actually. We  waited an hour.

The Spanish have a strong sense of right and  wrong when it comes to queueing, and if somebody jumps the  queue, as a woman did, they don’t actually challenge them, but they don’t like it. 
This little bit of questionable  behaviour  brought  about an instant unity, black humour, and the most  wonderful range of facial gestures amongst those of  us waiting.  People showed their true colours. Eyebrows shot up and down. 
Javier and I are about number 10 in the queue.  Javi is Merche’s husband. There must have been  at least 50 people behind us.

Our queue jumper calls the secretary an idiot.  We’ve all got our personal problems Javi   quietly comments as the culprit slinks  away, teeth gritted.  Then the accused secretary , unfussed, starts giving out our numbers, and things get speeded up. It’s a bit like waiting for the sales to open after Christmas.

I am tired, and little overwhelmed to be in the big city of Granada at 8.30 in the morning, with an unknown agenda about to unfold.

The young nurse cannot find a vein willing to part with Irish  blood.  She looks  upset.  I squeal and  grimace while she twists the needle.  Unexpectedly, Javi puts a hand on my shoulder and I feel a blast of pure kindness  entering by whole body.  It’s like the sun just came out in the basement of the hospital. The young nurse gives up and says her boss will do the job. She does.

Then we walk into the unknown. Javi, while we  were waiting for the blood test, has scoured  the basement of the hospital for where  we need to go next.  I have not been given clear instructions, they were relayed over the phone to Merche.  Something about 2 doors away from the chapel… wait there by the second  door. The basement of San Cecilo is a labyrinth.

I’ve missed my slot, but at 10 my name gets called and I enter an inner world of oncology x-rays. 

I’m momentarily freaked to find myself in this department.  Surely my throat thing  doesn’t have anything to do with cancer? I’ve had a thyroid problem for years.
The nurse injects something into my arm and tells me to wait 15 mins. She finds a vein easily.

15 minutes later I’m ushered into a room with a terrifying machine right in front of me.  It’s has a  tunnel and a huge iron square thing suspended from the ceiling.  The  iron square thing is going to be brought  down over my face, about half an inch above my nose by the sound of it.

Are you claustrophobic the young guy asks sweetly?

OH JESUS MARY MOTHER OF GOD am I claustrophobic???  YES !

How long will this take I ask.  About 15 minutes he adds.

OH NO! I say.  Well  then, 10 minutes  he offers.

Just  close your eyes  he says, and I  don’t hear what he’s saying about keeping  still and screaming.

I congratulate myself when it’s over for not freaking or screaming or falling off the table or swearing, or making a scene,  some of which I considered.

I closed my eyes, asked angels and unseen helpers to come in droves, and starting silently  chanting On Nevah Shiva, at least 1000 times. The time went  quite  quickly actually.

Then there was another hours wait for the doctor to come and look at the results. 

While this was all happening Javier was having experiences in the corridor . A  man just died he said and was wheeled past in a black bag.   He made friends with an elderly couple, one of them with cancer, who wished him a very fond goodbye.  Lots of life and death was happening outside the x-ray department.

We stop at a café  a few miles from Granada. Let me treat you I ask Javi.  He orders a bocadillo. It is the most wonderful bocadillo I have ever seen anywhere.  Huge, crusty,  filled with lomo and cheese, Javi grins the grim of a man with a hungry belly.

I order a media tostada  con queso.  It’s not on the healthy eating list, and I have 2   decaf coffees. Heaven.   Bliss and Joy.  On TV, Senor Rajoy is addressing the Spanish Parliament. The politicians  clap him.  How interesting.  He’s talking about not lowering pensions. The Spanish care deeply for their grandparents. The camera catches a young female official  playing on her iphone.

Everything is so poignant.  We all have our problems Javi had said.  The  black clad waiters in the café are seriously serious.  Rajoy talks with a deep well of energy. The  restaurants cook is multi-tasking, it’s almost lunch time.

We are now finished with our hospital challenge . We are fed. The sun is shining, the sky is blue. The drive home beside the Sierra Nevada mountains is astonishingly beautiful. 

My soul  is being filled and flooded  with exquisite moments as we sail past vistas so beautiful I want this journey to go on for days.

I think these moments are called Grace, and I know in my heart, all will be well.
Thank you Javi.

Cat and girl drawing by Saul Steinberg