Having flown back from Tripoli as suggested by the Tripoli doctors, rather than driven, I nipped in to a local clinic here in Benghazi to make arrangements for ongoing out-patient treatment. Ten minutes later, I had been booked in as an in-patient.
It would seem that I had been released from hospital in Tripoli because I had indicated that I wanted to get back to Benghazi whereas I should really have stayed a few more days. Leaving when I did meant that my leg swelled up again on the journey home. No harm done though. Happily, having had another scan, the clot has dispersed, and the muscle is calming down.
The staff here in Benghazi is almost exclusively local, and predominantly mono-lingual in Arabic, although the doctors all speak English; Tripoli was staffed by locals, Indians, Filipinas, and Europeans, and nearly everyone spoke English.
I am certainly not suffering from a shortage of visitors. In Tripoli, Khalid, Mustafa, and Salem came to see me, and I met up with ex-colleagues whilst there. In Benghazi, within minutes of being admitted, two current students, one future student, and the wife of a current student had been in. I am exceptionally privileged to have been visited by Tawfik's wife, especially in conservative Benghazi. Mohamed was less than effusive with his sympathy: "We told you not to do all that driving."
Whilst being taken to be scanned, the nurse referred to me as Haj. This is a term normally reserved for those men who have been to Mecca, are advanced in years, or are figures of authority. I hope she didn't think I was knocking on a bit.
I'll be in for about three days so the effects of the drugs can be monitored, but everything is under control, and there shouldn't be any long-term repercussions, although I might have to take blood thinners for a few months to be on the safe side.
