He's not quite all off...

Thanks for asking!

...further to Prospero's item below about being away for a few days, etc. - we can warn you that he's back, at least part of the time. A quick report for those who have posted kind questions and good wishes (yes, Prosp hasn't been werry well) on Facebook and other social media (NOT Twitter), for those who didn't know and for those who don't give a damn anyway: having finally been dragged to the doctor by friends who care, via the emergency (urgencias) department at La Línea hospital, Prosp was seen by a brand new triage person (two days into his ungrateful job) and eventually into the presence of a very nice looking doctor by the name of Laura (had Prosp been feeling better, he would have twirled his newly-grown moustache - to little effect, no doubt). This is a long story to be cut short::>>>
Given that Dr. Laura was young and, one guesses, fairly new at her job, too, she had Prosp connected to a drip that contained nothing but something dripping - for almost six hours - while a pneumo/lung specialist could be summoned from his lofty surgery on an upper floor somewhere to give advice. While this is being sought, a very good vein-finding nurse gets hold of him and extracts several gallons of blood for purposes of analyses.

In the end, after some protestation from Prospero, previously-shot x-rays got taken to the pneumo man (one has visions of a Michelin Man type person for some reason).

No, nothing wrong with his lungs, pronounced Dr. Michelin, despite evidence to the contrary on the aforesaid x-rays, and despite 50 years of smoking (yes, he gave up three years ago, but the balance is against him).

Right, Prosp gets unplugged, his hand swells but no matter, and he is released from the immediate clutches of the system - clutches from Dr. Laura were unavailable and he never met Dr. Michelin.

What if you're not in the system?

Despite the fact that he has helped several dozens of people to get their papers in order for the Andalucía health system, Prospero did not seem to be in order himself. (He did have an inkling but never got round to doing anything about it.) (An old Spanish proverb offers some enlightenment: En casa de herrero, cuchillo de palo, or "In a blacksmith's house, (they have) wooden knives," which will undoubtedly have an equivalent in English - possibly "The shoemaker's son always goes barefoot.")

Having been told that his health card was not valid when he went to his first appointment at the Jimena health centre, and promised to pay, in writing, for the appointment and an x-ray, he was wary of presenting his invalid card at the hospital where two hefty security guards might have tossed him into the street.

Far from it.

There was no problem when he arrived, just so long as he did something about it when he came out. Which he did at the little office by the cafeteria, where he was told that he would have no problem getting a card as long as he filled in this form (bad photocopy) and called this number (a 901) for an appointment, which would be best had in September ... all in process, in other words.

Yes, but would he have any problems about his treatment (if this was forthcoming at any time)? Shrug of shoulders, in which lurked the following:

Went to get subscription medication this morning from friendly Jimena pharmacist Victor Regueira (strong sipporter of JimenaPulse, then CampoPulse, since 2007). Card invalid. A call from the chemist to some call centre and the matter was sorted: card still invalid but still functioning, a very Spanish thing. Medication cost to this soon-to-be pensioner: €0.25. (Medication is for water retention, which poses many question in Prospero's mind, with which he would rather not deal at this time...)

Will keep you updated.