The Legacy of Joseph Barnabas in Cyprus

This morning I went to a gastroenterologist. When Lynne called, he told us to come right on over. About time I saw a doctor, I know. I have lost nearly 20 pounds the past six days. I have no appetite, so I eat very little. Food makes me nauseous. Miserable would be an accurate word. I am so weak that when I stand up I get dizzy.

But here we go with connections again. The doctor had icons in his office. In the USA, one does not expect prolific religious symbols in a doctor’s office. Lynne asked the man if the icon of Barnabas on his shelf was one done by Fr. Gabriel. “Yes,” he replied. “I am one of his spiritual children.” He goes every month for sacred liturgy to the tomb of St. Barnabas near Salamis. We probably saw him there last month.

He asked questions about how long I have been ill, what I have been taking, etc. Then he examined me. Blood pressure and heart rate are fine. Lungs are clear…. “I will write prescriptions for medicines to help you to get over this.” After he wrote out a prescription and gave instructions, he smiled and said, “You should pray to St. Barnabas. Whenever I get sick, I ask Barnabas to help me get well.”

When we first got to his modest office facility, we saw no one in the waiting room. No receptionist. So Lynne knocked on a door after a few minutes. A little Greek doctor opened the door, smiled and invited us into his office/examination room. I was wondering what I had gotten myself into. He asked where we live in America. Lynne told him, and he replied, “Oh, then you are about two hours north of Baltimore.” Turns out that he worked a while at Johns Hopkins Hospital. I began to relax a bit.

After he gave me a prescription for multiple drugs, he also wrote out a receipt for payment (much less that a similar procedure would have cost at home). About that time, his wife came in with some coffee for him. She asked if I would like a cup of coffee. I declined. Overall, it was simply not the kind of medical experience I have grown to expect.

Now, I am taking two antibiotics, something to combat nausea, some powder-packets that I mix in water to help restore my messed up electrolytes, and something for the diarrhea. Most likely I got some bad food at a small café in Turkish occupied northern Cyprus last week. Getting sick is not an uncommon reality when traveling overseas. I am careful, but you never know for sure when some bacteria will lay you low. I am thankful that I did not have to be admitted to a hospital and have that cross-cultural experience. Been there. Done that. Don’t like it. But then, maybe my nurse would have known Fr. Gabriel.