So, what was the conclusion?

At first, the island’s medical care filled us with hope, promising that we would investigate and go home with a healthy child. But by the end of February, we felt like we had entered a series of disappointments. Yet, you gather your thoughts and keep moving forward. Right?

It’s the end of February. You look out the window and see a rainbow peeking through the almond blossoms. It’s spring in Crete, and lush nature is awakening. There’s still some rain, but the sun is so warm. After the rain, the smell of nature in the warm sun is so pleasant. This whole environment we’re living in right now should entirely support positivity and brightness.

Contrary to the environment, it feels so damn heavy in my heart that I feel like it will drop like a stone from its place. My face is so gloomy, and my eyes constantly want to fill with tears. It feels like we’ve run into a dead end! I want to cry, but at the same time, I want to scream.

The doctor who promised to help us with a big heart, and I don’t doubt that his intention was sincere, seems to have started doubting us. Recently, there was a symposium at the local university hospital where he went to consult with the doctors who had been treating us. He came to help us get a second opinion because the diagnosis we received from Athens was simply a bizarre turn of events. This doctor was my own orthopedist, who dealt with my leg and then helped address Indy’s case. After reviewing all the materials, he, too, was very confused because a proper diagnosis couldn’t be made based on these results.

Now, however, we received information through our translator that the doctor who attended the symposium no longer wanted to give us a new appointment. This is because he is confused and doesn’t know what to do with us. Also, because he was told at the symposium that we are uncooperative. Whatever that is supposed to mean. And supposedly, we are soon going back to our homeland and heading to Russia for further investigations. Things keep getting worse! While our orthopedist believed that not all lab analyses should be taken as absolute truth and that we should go back to the hospital to start the whole process again without any prejudices and independently, the local hospital made it clear to him that since we refused vaccinations, we cannot be admitted to the hospital.

A truly strange turn of events. Firstly, our lack of vaccinations, which was already inquired about before our first hospital visit, was not an obstacle to hospital admission. They knew this information. And now, suddenly, because we refused the vaccines offered in Athens, we can no longer be further investigated. And even stranger is this talk of Russia—where did that come from? Our translator, who relayed all this information to us, tried to explain to the doctor that Estonians cannot even travel to Russia right now. But sometimes, it feels like some of them really do think that we are still part of Russia and related to Russians. No, we are not!

The disappointment in this whole situation was brutal. So what do you do in such a case? Usually, after such emotional hardships, I physically collapse, but this time it happened to Tuljo. I hadn’t driven a car for four months, and today, while driving back from the meeting with the translator, Tuljo pulled the bus to the side of the road and couldn’t drive any further. Now it was my turn to try how I would manage driving with my not fully functioning clutch leg. Well, I have to recall and start practicing again.

When we got home, Tuljo fell asleep. I played with the kids, but inside I felt so damn heavy. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream. So damn stuck! Typical Estonian. You pour a drop of Metaxa into a glass and then ruin it with a lot of Coca-Cola Zero. Nicotine helps to ponder. After half a glass of the cocktail, I gave up on this consolation and headed back to the internet. Trying to Google while entertaining the kids – let them paint my toenails. I wrote to a private clinic that even offered a second opinion service.

I also pulled out the good thoughts that I have collected in my notebook over the years.

Always see things better than they seem! Even when you’re in total mud! If something seems impossible and negative, you need to change your perspective. You always find what you’re looking for! If you’re negatively inclined, you’ll find negativity. Think of things always better than they are!

We were supposed to start a second course of antibiotics for Indy in March, but thanks to the translator’s information that we were no longer welcome, I personally hesitated to consult the doctor again. The translator said the orthopedist was quite upset and even a little angry.

I went to an amazing English lady for very intense Japanese acupressure, and she told me that it’s obvious I grew up in a society coming out of Soviet times. I don’t stand up for myself enough; I’m rather submissive and don’t demand enough. Yes, she was right. But it’s okay, I am here to break those patterns and grow as a person. And Margot even tested me by sending me to some random doctor in the village instead of to the massage to demand antibiotics for the child. I came back empty-handed but stronger in spirit.

Just after arriving to Estonia, Indy turned 6 on 17th of April.

I wrote this story at the end of February while in Crete and then left it unfinished. Now I’m finishing it in Estonia. Back then, I decided that our child would simply get better, and the situation would resolve itself. I would no longer direct my worry and negativity towards it. I continued searching for contacts and clinics to further investigate, but a valuable chiropractor convinced us that it wasn’t worth pouring our money into this, investigating a little here and a little there. Now we are recovering a bit, primarily emotionally, and trying to push forward in Estonia to finally get tissue samples from the ankle, which should provide the final answers.

Many people have been asking how Indy is doing and how the situation has been resolved. The biggest change came from the antibiotic course, which reduced the swelling in her legs and allowed her joints to start moving again. Since then, things have been improving, not worsening. Now we need to go to physical therapy to help Indy regain her normal gait because months of improper posture have significantly affected her walking.

In Crete, we were able to support Indy with good, clean food, which is undoubtedly more challenging to find in Estonia at the moment. Additionally, we were given royal jelly, or bee queen food, brought to our yard from the mountains by motorbike. While an ordinary bee lives for a few weeks, the queen bee, which feeds exclusively on royal jelly, can live up to seven years. According to the locals, this is a powerful natural remedy, and we were able to support Indy with it. Pure mountain arnica gel also seemed to be valuable.

The current situation is stable; the child is cheerful and runs around on her feet all day long. Sometimes, her legs get tired by the evening, but what we experienced last summer is behind us. We continue to investigate and work on the issue. Undoubtedly, we gained a lot of knowledge in Greece, underwent many examinations, and gathered a lot of additional information, but unfortunately, we did not reach a final solution there. However, we learned much more than we would have in Estonia, and ultimately the situation improved significantly.

So, in summary, what have we learned from this entire situation? That medicine is not always what it seems. It’s always worth questioning things, asking additional questions, researching extensively on your own, and seeking different opinions. It is your or your child’s body, and only you are responsible for the decisions you make. Not everything that glitters is gold.

We learned a tremendous amount on the mental side—how to support yourself, your family, and your partner in times of difficulty; how to give space, discuss, cope with challenging topics, and not give up; how to manage your thoughts and emotions, and how to listen to your intuition. I learned to stand up for myself and my child! Never give up—keep opening new doors and exploring hidden corners; the solution will come! Success requires perseverance.

I know that when you feel down, and your soul is sick, you need one evening, not a whole month, to thoroughly process the issue and then leave it in the past. Take your lessons and think about what you can do to make things better. I also know that I must always choose the best thoughts for myself! And I know that this is within my power.

If you also feel that you want to better manage your life and be better prepared for the dark autumn this year, you can find instructions here: