The last time I wrote was about our sail to Antigua in 2016. After returning to Martinique, we left for Grenada after a short time. We had decided to take advantage of the low prices offered at Clark’s Court marina, which was in the process of being established at the time.
After reaching the bay, we tied to Whisper Cove marina (across the bay) to get Ruyam II ready for summer, since Clark’s Court did not have good facilities to live aboard at the time. After a week or so, and having celebrated my birthday, we got the baby on ground and left Grenada for the summer.
SUMMER OF 2016
After coming to Hamilton, Devrim, Ayse and I left for Turkey for a short vacation. By the time we were back, the summer was half way over, and I did not have the energy to renew my membership at McMaster University gym. I was feeling tired and started lazing around all day, and hence put on a little weight. Since it did not seem right, I went to see our new family doctor Emily Au to complain.
She asked what the problem was, and decided without any physical examination that I should start eating less, and exercising. Doctor’s orders, get back to work I said. Every morning, I spent an hour and a half, going up and down the two escarpment stairs (300+ steps), walking or biking in the middle. I don’t think I lost any weight, but I started to feel a bit better.
BACK TO THE CARIBBEAN
Beginning of November 2016, we were back at Clark’s Court. We found that they had finished the small hotel building, and renting suits with a bathroom and kitchenette. That was convenient, and I spent most of my time reading in the air-conditioned room, while poor Al was getting the boat ready, almost broke a limb or head in the process. He fell from the make-shift ladder to the boat on hard, with the outboard engine. He is always so sure-footed that, it did not occur to him, or the helper, to secure the engine before bringing it down. Anyway, most to the damage was a scratch on his big toe. When I think about it I shudder. He could have broken his arm/leg or head, since there were big blocks of concrete near by, where Ruyam II was attached.
MARTINIQUE
After a week of preparation and bottom paint, we went our merry way to St Anne, Martinique.
Around mid- November I started to feel out of breath while walking up the small hill passing by the cemetery. That was quite surprising, since I always walk up very fast and wait for Al at the peak. I thought I might be under the weather or something. After a week or so, I noticed that my left leg was swelling.
HOSPITAL
On December 2 nd, my leg was double its size and hot to the touch. We thought that it was time to see a doctor. We jumped to the bus and went to see our friends Levent and Guylaine at their kebab shop. At first Guylaine took me to the doctor at the Marina in Le Marin, but it was closed. So she called a “mobile doctor”, and let me talk to him. He asked what my complaint was, and I said swollen leg and difficulty in breathing. Afterwards, the doctor told Guylaine that he did not think it was serious enough for him to come. Unbeknownst to me at the time, that this was the symptom of a blood clot forming in my leg, which launched itself into my lung. So much for the doctor. Apparently, he was listening to my voice, rather than my words. My voice was not faint enough and I might have laughed while talking. Al started admonishing me for not displaying a more patient-like way of speaking. Well, I did not know how to act, sorry.
It was obvious that the only help I could get was to be at the hospital. We took the car that was rented by our sailor friends Melike and Nejat of North. We got the directions for the university hospital in Fort de France, and went to the emergency. However, that particular emergency was for the children’s hospital, so I had to walk up a path to the real emergency. By the time I walked in, I was completely out of breath. The nurse saw me and asked if I had asthma. They told us to wait, it was noon (sacred in France). I watched the admission lady finish her foot-long baguette, and turn to me to fill my form. Immediately afterwards I was taken to a small room, where a doctor and nurse examined me, took a cardiogram, attached a drip to my right arm, put me on a gurney. She thought that it could be an aneurysm, so gave a shot of blood thinner. Then they put me in a corridor full of other gurneys, mostly old people. I was worried about Al, because he had no idea what was happening to me, left at the waiting room, without his lunch. So I got hold of one of the doctors running here and there, and with my great French, begged to tell Al that he should go and find something to eat.
Hours passed, but nothing happened. I got up, and dragging my ivy stand, walked to the bathroom. When I was out, a distraught looking orderly shouted that I should have waited to be wheeled to the bathroom. That was a surprise, I had no trouble walking!
It was almost quitting time, and I was still lying down, twirling my fingers. At last my doctor came by, and announced that I was not going anywhere that night, except the CT Scan room. They had an archaic machine, which made a lot of noise, but did the job. Al came to walk by me to the intensive care at the Cardiology department, and left.
The doctor informed me that my lung and heart was full of fluid, and they had to be drained. They placed a tube through my ribs to my lung, and started the process of draining my lung into a closed box. I was left alone for the night, but could not sleep. I was looking at my heart rate (over 120) on the monitor. Unbelievable, it usually 60 at rest.
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