The moral of this story is: Do NOT get ill in August in Spain - but you knew that already. There is no-one to make a decision other than what is written down under 'procedures'. The ball keeps getting passed from one substitute to another, and in the meantime the patient is at risk of ... Never mind, here's Prospero's present condition: there are heart, lung, intestinal, prostrate and other issues involved, but these cannot be determined until he has seen a couple of specialists (see the first paragraph), which appointment dates are imminent ON THE VERY POSITIVE SIDE (which there always is):>>>I, Prospero, a.k.a. Alberto, cannot thank you all enough for your best wishes and enquiries, as well as for the amount of practical help offered, including washing and ironing. Alas, some of you may well be called on because this bout of illness has left me with very little energy, which comes and goes apparently at random. Will let you know when I know. In the meantime, keep healthy!
(BTW: the moustache is growing well. And, yes, my other alias of Abbé, has caught the yellowish tinge I seem to have acquired unintentionally...)
THIS MORNING'S VERY LATEST UPDATE:
Was very kindly taken to the market and the polo at Sotogrande yesterday, Sunday - which allowed me to continue feeling envious of the other half (joke, joke) - and dinner at La Tasca. By all accounts, I should have been knackered, and was. But, with the heat abating and a good night's sleep, this morning finds me at the office catching up with as much as possible.
Sure, the world has not stopped speeding around for me, but I seem to more able to hang today. Hope it lasts a little while at least!