ABCD: Public Hospital: Your Wealth and Hellness Services

I am finally logging a post under the category "ABCD", which in Shanghai foreigner's lingo, stands for "A Bad China Day". Generally, ABCD is a day where you feel awkward / out of place / culture shocked because of an event you encountered, and you can choose to be enraged, saddened, homesick, baffled, wildly amused, or any or all of the above about it. Today, it was my turn, and I am proudly logging it in!

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Even before coming to Shanghai people have long warned me of certain aspects of public healthcare. Today, as I unfortunately came under attack of the weather, fatigue, and seasonal virus, I came down with a severe case of stomach flu. I decided to visit a local hospital for help. Here my steep (and rather painful) learn curve began.

Lesson #1: Respect Thy Neighbor, Especially Thy Elders. First of all, going to your friendly neighborhood hospital / clinic is a workout. You get per-diagnosed at the door desk, who then sends you to Registration Desk to pay and get a number, who then sends you up several floors to the Internal Medicine Doctor, where you literally line up INSIDE her office (forget privacy),  fighting rather healthy-looking old folks who live in the neighborhood and are just crowding the doctor's desk to get their usual meds at a discount with a medical stamp. They will edge themselves in the line, push you out of place, addressing your doctor with usually chatty long hellos about children, backache and dogs, even if you are the one with a real and immediate illness to attend.  Don't mess with them, with the # of prescriptions given as part of the rumored medical merit system, the doc is on their side, always.

Lesson #2: Always Downgrade Thy Illness to a Non-Epidemic: When I finally got to the doctor after being cut several times by smiley old folks, upon hearing the word "stomach flu", or rather, word "flu" the doctor REFUSED to see me. She decided that my condition, as mild as it might seem, might be contagious and hence posting immediate danger to public health. Therefore, I must be treated at a central hospital 5 km away who might be able to potentially contain me (yes she said, contain me) because it is "their policy". Despite my furious contest and as ridiculous as it sounded, I learned not to argue with anyone in an uniform for long and headed to the Taxi stand. :)

Lesson #3: Emergency is A Matter of Timeliness and Convenience: After I dragged my frail physical health and (now) depleted morale out of a cab, I decided to play the pity card. WRONG MOVE again. The central hospital, after hearing that I was physically exhausted, and didn't contain food for 24 hours, decided that I need to go see the Digestive Emergency clinic. Problem? The clinic is 0.5 km away on the other block. As I dragged myself begrudgingly over, the DE doctor, who was playing with her iPhone intently, took one look at me and diagnosed that I was not going to perish soon, and decided that I should not be seen at 3:50pm since she shall be off-shift at 4. Therefore, back to the central registration block, and unless you line up again at the cashier, no refund for your emergency registration fee.

I know I'm sounding like a whiny puppy, but it gets better from here. :)

Lesson #4: The Lab is A Bloody Production Line: As a registered for the regular Internal Doctor who will work after 4pm, she, another iPhone mobile game player / SMSer, decide with another look that I need my blood and stool checked.

Okay, blood first. The nurse who is attending the window had a facial expression of a fascist and an intimidating production line worked out: Gloves, needle, tube, poke, gone. Within 10 seconds of sitting down, she gave me a sharp jab that made me wince, and threw me a little cotton ball to press on the spot. Usual stuff, and I've been tested numerous times before for various immigration procedures, except for this time a minute later as I released the cotton ball, a mini-river of blood streamed down my forearm - which, judging by the look of horror and gasp of people who are standing by for blood-test, is not an normal occurrence. Me, turning into a (by local patient standard) spoiled brat at this point, asked her (politely), for a band-aid. No, meiyou, don't have. Cleansing-wipe? No, meiyou, don't have. Now, turning into a real and (not as polite but still calm) bloody spoiled brat at this point, I told her NO IS NOT AN ANSWER and please find me SOMETHING to stop this mess. With a wary look, she threw me another dry cotton ball with a mumbling comment, "Your veins are too thin." Thanks. I'll take that as an aesthetic compliment after I dry-clean this cashmere sweater. :/

Lesson #5: Pre-prep Poo: (No spoiler or gross description, I promise it is safe to read) Stool Test? The nurse then pointed to a stack of OPEN CONTAINER (no lids) and pointed to the public restroom half-way down the long hall. I immediately made the strategic decision that NO MATTER WHAT, I WILL NOT be walking down half of the hospital with a plate of my own warm poo in my hand. Period. Even monkeys at the zoo learned not to do that. I turned around and headed back to the bench.

Lesson #6: It's a Conversation After All: When I finally had my blood report, the doctor decided to spare me the poo-challenge since she had enough info to prove that I had a viral stomach flu. I finally got medicine that will allow me to eat food, keep it, sleep, and recover. She even kindly asked if I wanted an injection of medication or an IV drip, I politely declined, enough needle for today. Plus, I noticed that they ran out of hanging stands and there are a line of people outside sitting there looking bored,  holding their own IV bottles in one hand. I guess between hydration and hypertension, I am happy to go home and choose hibernation. :)

Now, after a day on med and in bed rest, I am apparently well enough to be amused with my medical adventure. Living strong and blogging on!


Wishing You Were My Doc, Doogie