This morning, just like any other morning, I got up, had a shower, had breakfast and stood up ready to go to work but as soon as I stood up, a sensation of extreme exhaustion spread across my upper body. It was a feeling as if the muscles in my shoulders and arms had turned to jelly.
Slowly this sensation resolved itself into a feeling of cramp that spread from my arms to the back of my neck, my scalp and to the centre of my chest. "Oho", I thought, "something a bit iffy is happening here". So I put on my coat and walked the 100 or so yards to my local health centre/A&E unit, one of many dotted around Seville.
I arrived at 09:15 and by 11:05, I had had an ECG, seen the doctor four times and a nurse thrice, been dosed on two separate occasions with nitroglycerine, warned not to jump up and down too much in case I exploded, and monitored thereafter. I was finally sent home with an appointment to see my own GP and get a consultation with a cardiologist. I hasten to add that I was not the only patient there.
I had had an attack of angina. It was nothing serious, just one of the added attractions of getting, ahem, more mature. The point of this post, however, is not to moan about my health, but to sing the praises of the Spanish National Health Service, and more specifically the SAS, the Andalusian regional health authority. I am a frequent detractor of all things to do with the Andalusian Administration, but the SAS is world-class and probably explains why Spanish medical staff are at a premium in the rest of Europe. I would rather be seriously ill here than anywhere else in the world.
So today's blog is simply to say thank you to the SAS for its speed, efficiency and outstanding work, as well as the friendliness of its staff.
