HIPAA Violations, Terrorizing The Town, And Roasting Lamb On A Spit

One thing we quickly established – Greece either does not have an equivalent to HIPAA, theirs isn’t as stringent or on Patmos they don’t care about it. During our visit in the Pediatric Room of the Patmos Health Centre, the doctor did not care to close the door – which wasn’t so much an issue for us as it was for the woman in the hospital-type room across the hall who came in emitting something between a groan and a scream. Or the man on the other side of the same room in a tank top and an adult diaper. Ethan and I asked no questions, but glanced at one another – and then back the series of open doors allowing us our view.

The facility was clean, modern and well-equipped – an ER/Heath Clinic to be proud of. The young Greek doctor spoke excellent English and was personable. Naturally, when we arrived the only person near the entrance did not need our names, any paper work or to ask us anything. He just motioned us to sit in the empty waiting area and mumbled something I took to mean, “someone will be with you shortly.” Which is what happened.

There was no nurse involved. The doctor, having just finished advising his last patient in the hallway giving him instructions on medication and follow-up procedures (a blatant HIPAA violation), motioned for us to follow him into what turned out the be the Pediatrics Room and asked us “So, what is the problem?” Ethan presented his antecubital fossa (inside of the elbow) where his eczema flare-up was now swelling and emitting an orange-ish ooze. The doctor seemed to instantly understand the issue, though I explained Ethan has chronic eczema and listed both the main medication he takes and the two he’s allergic to, which the doctor wrote down and looked up.

He also asked Ethan his name, age and date of birth which he scratched down on a notepad. Based on my one other visit to the Patmos Health Centre in 2019 with Matheus, our au pair at the time, I believe the personal information was for the log book the facility keeps to show the government who has been served. The clinic charges nothing – and at least as far as non-residents go – keeps no medical records.

The friendly doctor then gloved-up and inspected Ethan’s arms more closely and took a photo – after which he said he wanted to consult “the pediatrician” and would come back to us as soon as the two of them had talked. I hypothesized “the pediatrician” was a telemedicine doctor in Athens or Rhodes who consulted when required. We later learned she actually is resident with the clinic and just wasn’t on duty today. In fact, because they are short-staffed at the moment, our doctor and the pediatrician have been alternating 24-hour shifts until more staff arrive.

Patmos’ Health Centre is supported by a government rural medicine program – physicians come in rotations of typically six months. Not only do they use new physicians whose medical school the government pays for – but the Greek government has programs with other countries including Switzerland where foreign physicians get residency credits on Greek islands, giving the small facility an international flavor enhanced during the summer by foreign patients with illnesses and injuries while on vacation.

Ethan and I chatted while we awaited the doctor’s return. Because there was absolutely no cell service in the building, I stepped outside to text the kids and update them. While out front, I saw my friend Giliakos and his father – owners of Flisvos Restaurant – waiting worriedly. I surmised the woman in the bed across the hall was Giliakos’ mother, confirmed further by the two of them periodically going in and out of the room – then making calls outside during which time they had coffee delivered by motorscooter from Ta Kardasia. I felt terrible for them and it reminded me “weeping eczema” is not the end of the world.

Finally, the doctor came back with a piece of note paper with two medicines listed – an antimicrobial wash and a topical cream. He explained how to use these things (which was exactly what one would guess) and then stamped the paper to make the prescription official. He asked if we would be around for awhile to which I explained we have a house here. He said to return on Monday for a follow-up – the pediatrician will be on duty and we’ll see what improvement occurred with the medication and sent us on our way. No paperwork, no bill, no cashier, no copay, no copying our insurance card, no checking ID of any kind for that matter. We just walked out the door.

I brought Ethan home and since the pharmacy in the rear of town (closer to our house and owned by the family of Eleni, a friend who runs the nonprofit that helps stray cats around the island) was closed, I went to the “front pharmacy” with the nice pharmacist who studied in England and sounds completely British. I always find him very assuring. He had both items readily available and made sure to emphasize the cream should be used as close as possible to 12 hours apart – so wait until evening even if we really want to apply it immediately. That said, Ethan could use the wash sooner if he wants – which he did.

When I returned to the house, I found three kids happily eating Greek pies on the sofa, watching stand-up comedy.

Our original plan was to do morning errands, go to Livadi Geranou beach for the afternoon and make dinner at home. We did the errands – so we have what we need for dinner – but the afternoon plan needed adjusting. It’s best Ethan takes a break from the ocean until his skin calms down. The kids had no problem with this – which besides their concern for Ethan was aided by the fact they have had three beach days in a row. They usually like a day off after three or four beach days.

The boys immediately decided to go to the gym after lunch. Ailyn, who woke around 11am and felt like lazing around took her time strategizing, but eventually landed on sharing her vision for the front yard followed by going to the gym. In the end, I had a session with each kid walking the yard and getting their input – both of which were very good and largely overlapped. I have my work cut out for me figuring out how to execute the rough plan.

The boys decided after the gym they would “go terrorize the town” in Ethan’s words. Ailyn remained uncommitted on her post-workout plans.

So, with the kids headed in their direction, I decided I could go in my own. I headed over to Expert electronics and appliances to see about a chimney starter for the barbecue and then to Aetherion Cafe to write this blog. Why not sit at a table on the beach and drink a decaf freddo cappuccino in the shade? I told the kids where to find me and reminded them they could text or call from their devices. And off we all went.

As we enter this new age, I’m not sure if I’m giving them too much freedom or just the right amount. I sometimes think I give them too much attention and other times not enough. Sometimes I think I’m with them a lot and maybe even too much (at least for the boys) – and  then I give them a pretty long leash and wonder if I’m crazy and/or abdicating my role. I suppose this is a debate many parents have as their kids get older and probably not the last time I’ll worry about it.

Frequently, Patmians offer their unsolicited opinions that I’m doing the very best thing for the kids. They see them riding or walking around town, going in and out of stores and tell me it’s exactly as it should be. “You bring them to Patmos every year – this is great for them. They go out, they make friends, they ride around. This is the best thing you can do for them,” Kostas at Expert told me today.

“I have seen your kids riding around, going here and there. I love it!” Eirini, our neighbor who owns Nectar told me today. She also gave me a big hug and we caught up on her recent adventures in India and Thailand. “Your daughter, she is so sweet – I love her! She is very special!”

“Your kids were in here the other day,” Manolis at the organic shop told me this morning. “It’s so nice – it’s like family coming over!” He also told me Patmos is great for them because wherever they go, they know someone – everyone watches out for everyone. They are as safe as they can be.

It’s clear with each passing summer, our status of belonging deepens. We’re all increasingly recognized. Handshakes have turned to hugs. “Welcome!” and “Good to have you back!” are more common.

Kostas asked me about flights between Athens and the US because he and his wife are contemplating a family trip to New York to visit relatives there. We discussed and I mentioned how Manolis got the idea for his organic shop while living in New Jersey for awhile when he was younger, “That’s right, he has a brother who lives in New Jersey!” Kostas’ wife, who had stopped in, exclaimed. They were clearly impressed I knew this about Manolis and that I knew Thanasis at the gym had been in New York this past winter. I gained cachet.

Though Kostas and George at Expert had to disappoint me on the chimney starter – they didn’t have one – George made up for it. “You don’t need a chimney starter, you need a hair dryer! I roasted a whole lamb on the spit this Easter by lighting the charcoal and then blowing it with a hair dryer. In 15 minutes, the coals were hot as they could be and the lamb  – which I coated in nothing but lemon juice and oregano – came out superb!” (George is Australian-Greek and uses fancy words like superb).

So, before asking Prokopis at the hardware store to order another chimney starter, I’ll try George’s hairdryer idea and see if it works. He may have just saved me 40 euros and ensured my next whole lamb on a spit comes out superb.