My Doctor Visit

          On Monday, I went to school with my arm in a sling.  I do not feel the sharp pain in my shoulder with the sling on.  I arranged for a ride after school to see a doctor.  I found out we were misinformed and the beautiful hospital a block away will not take our insurance.  Also, there is a deductible we have to pay.  Everything here is cash up front so I needed to be prepared to pay.  I really thought the school would help me out but they did not.  When our principal’s wife got Malaria and the Mumps last year she didn’t have to pay a thing. 

          After the other expats were dropped off our driver took Clint and I over to the Hannah Foundation Clinic & Trauma Centre.  It is just a block away from a store we often go to.  He left us there so we needed to walk home.  This was fine because it is only a mile at the most from our compound.  Our school administrator warned me it was not a clean pretty place.  From the outside it looked like an abandoned building.  We went in because I knew she would not send us to a bad place.  I told the receptionist I was there to see Dr. Oscar.  It cost N2,000 ($14) to start a file on me and N5,000 ($35) to be seen.

          She had to call him back from wherever he had gone, presumably home by 4:30 pm.  A nurse took my blood pressure three times in the lobby.  I watched the dial.  I think she was having trouble reading it.  She took my temperature under my arm with a large thermometer.  It wasn’t long before we were invited directly into the doctor’s office not an exam room.  All the walls were covered with book shelves and memorabilia.  The doctor reminded me of James Earl Jones with his glasses, salt and pepper hair, and big voice.  Where Clint was seated he could hardly see the doctor for the piles of papers he had on the corner of his desk.

          He talked to me first and then had me come around to sit next to him where he examined my shoulder.  He ordered an x-ray of my shoulder.  It cost N3,000 ($21).  We were escorted down the hallway to a cement courtyard in the center of the building.  I was then taken to a dimly lit room with a scary old x-ray machine.  The male tech needed me to take my arm out of my shirt because of the metal sparkles on it.  I asked him to get my husband because I couldn’t do it myself with my sore shoulder.  While the technician was out of the room we both commented on the visible black mold on the walls, the damp smell and the equipment.  I was probably about to receive massive doses of radiation.

          The technician was very kind and careful to not hurt me when he adjusted my position and the film.  I was very thankful he did not need to take more than two pictures.  Back in the doctor’s office Dr. Oscar (I discovered Oscar was his first name but he never pronounced his last name for me and it isn’t on the medication I received so I couldn’t tell you what it was.) showed us the x-rays.  He pointed to a sharp point on my shoulder bone and said it was evidence of arthritis.  He also said there was an area at the top of my arm bone which looked unusual and he didn’t know what it was but it could be an infection.  He said I had no fractures.

          He prescribed five medications N5,800 ($40 apx) and wanted to see me early next week.  In the waiting room, the secretary who had started my file and took my payments brought the medication out in a basket.  She ran to get change for me in the doctor’s office and left the whole basket full of many different kinds of medications on the table next to us.  We could have easily taken some of it.  He prescribed Kotase (I read on the Internet it is a pain reliever), Cipro (antibiotic), Arthrotec (I read on the Internet it is used to treat osteoarthritis and rheumatoid arthritis), Arthocare (which is an over-the-counter medicine with Glucosamine and Chondritin) and Zetgel (which is also an over-the-counter medicine in the form of a gel to smooth onto my shoulder).

No Bottles - very similar to how medication was dispensed in Taiwan.

          I took today off to rest my shoulder and avoid further injury.  Yesterday, the same student who I had picked up stubbed my right toe.  The nail bent backwards and broke taking skin with it on both sides.  My principal saw me right after it happened.  We were walking in line down the hallway.  I often walk backwards watching my students.  This particular student is in the front of the line.  I was doing a little dance and saying something like awe and ouch and laughing in disbelief.  My principal looked at my toe and asked me why I wasn’t crying.  I whispered to him I didn’t want to cry in front of my students.  I walked with a limp the rest of the way back to our classroom.

          Besides the shoulder injury, I also had the unfortunate allergic reaction to a medicine patch I had placed on my shoulder over the weekend.  I received it from one of the expats.  She said it improves circulation and might help.  I must be allergic to one of the ingredients because I have a rectangular shaped red inflamed, blistery area on my shoulder now also.  Without the AC in my classroom yesterday it was very warm and my shoulder was itching so bad I could hardly stand it.  The doctor simply said it would heal and to wait to apply the gel he prescribed for me until my skin had returned to normal.  Today, my skin in that spot is rough and peeling off.  Clint thinks it looks like I got a severe burn.

          We realized an alarming fact last night.  There is no such thing as "911" here.  We have no phone book and nobody has even given us a number to call an ambulance if we had an emergency.  If they came we would likely not have the cash to pay them anyway and I don't know where they would take us.  I just pray we get through these two years here without any big health problems.  Clint was not given health insurance so he especially needs our prayers.

          On another note, we downloaded an episode of Survivor to watch.  I have been watching this show for years.  Today I watched with a whole new perspective.  When they won the reward challenge they received cookies and muffins.  Clint and I looked at each other and went, "Oh man that looks good".  74 days in a Third World country will do that to you.