Redux
Every journey circles home
Apparently, getting sick now requires an appointment, not with a doctor, but with the General Healthcare System’s software. And judging by recent events, the software only works part-time, preferably not on Mondays.
According to medical staff, the system collapse has been happening every Monday. Which is fascinating, because my immune system did not get that memo. I did not wake up one Monday morning thinking, Ah yes, perfect day to spike a fever and challenge national digital infrastructure. Illness, as it turns out, does not consult calendars, software schedules or IT departments before making an appearance.
My personal saga began with horrible headaches following a heavy influenza that accompanied all my New Year’s Eve outings. By outings, I mean collapsing on the sofa and binge-watching season five of Stranger Things while coughing like a background extra already halfway claimed by Vecna.
One year, or eight days later, after dragging myself to work with a runny nose in every scene, the influenza finally said goodbye. The headaches, however, decided to stay. They regrouped somewhere deep in my sinuses and struck again. On a Monday. Naturally.
So off I went to a small clinic to see a sinus specialist. The moment I walked in, I knew something was wrong. It did not look like an ordinary Monday morning. It looked like a Monday morning at the end of the world. Screens were frozen. Staff were nervous and apologetic. No tests could be accessed. No prescriptions could be written. In today’s digital healthcare, when the system is down, you are a flatliner. And if it was your first visit, you were politely informed that this was simply not your day, as if you did not already know that.
The system had the following plan: Nothing could be done. It felt a bit like after the Mari explosion and the subsequent power cuts, when I discovered that electric shutters only work with electricity. You stand there blinking, feeling helpless and unwell, wondering how something so basic can suddenly feel impossible. Things did not look good, yet I still found myself thinking that, for all its flaws, we were lucky to have GESY at all.
Health professionals across Cyprus describe a system that freezes, slows to a crawl or becomes completely inaccessible. Doctors reported that hundreds of patients affected on Monday mornings alone, unable to access records, register visits or issue prescriptions. The advice hotline was reassuring that the problem would be resolved.
Health systems are living organisms. The UK’s NHS, introduced in 1948, has been reformed countless times through funding changes, workforce reforms and structural overhauls. Introduction is only the beginning. Maintenance is what keeps it alive.
So I have decided to adapt. I will start meditating, not to improve my wellbeing, but to negotiate with it. With enough breathing exercises, herbal teas and gentle self-hypnosis, maybe I can persuade my next medical emergency to happen on a Tuesday. Or even a Thursday. I am flexible.
I ask only for a healthcare system that is online, and a medical emergency that understands scheduling. Jokes aside, not everyone is visiting for a stubborn sinus. Many face far more serious conditions, and they should be treated with urgency and respect.