A visit to the doctor
When the owners of our apartment came to visit a couple of months ago, they left us a flyer for an Emergency Medical Office. We kept it in a decorative wooden bowl and since we never got sick or had a medical or dental emergency (¡Gracias a Dios!), it got buried under receipts, brochures, and pieces of paper with scribbled phone numbers; that is, until today. When my son couldn’t stop vomiting and then started wailing with abdominal pain, I unburied the flyer, called Taxi Miguel, and grabbed my purse and a plastic bag. Taxi Miguel arrived in under five minutes and took us quickly to the medical center located in Huacas, about 12 kms away. We entered the building, which consisted of an open room with a desk, a couple of chairs, a water cooler, and flyers about the H1N1 virus. There were 3 examining rooms, one of which belonged to the dentist, and a bathroom. All the walls, as well as the scrubs the attending doctor and nurse wore, were sky blue. Since the rooms were already filled, they had my son sit in one of the chairs in the “waiting room.” The young doctor asked him some questions (both in English and Spanish), touched his abdomen, and said it was a virus that’s going around. Since he’s been throwing up so much (plastic bag was full upon arrival), he recommended an IV to rehydrate him and Gravol, to stop the vomiting. We said okay and they started the IV. They didn’t ask our names, didn’t ask if we had insurance, didn’t make us fill out forms, didn’t get a medical history. There was no paperwork whatsoever, just efficient medical attention. Once a bed was available, they transferred my son there, turned off the light and closed the door for him to rest. Doctor Venegas checked on him every ten minutes and it wasn’t until the serum bag was almost empty that he asked me for the patient’s name. He took out his prescription pad and wrote a prescription for Enterogermina, small plastic vials that contain 2 billion spores of Bacilus clausi, the good bacteria, to restore the intestinal flora. “One every 12 hours for 3 days. Don’t give him anything to drink or eat for two hours, then start with broth. If he’s not better, call me.” Five minutes later, he removed the IV and wished us well. I asked the nurse how much I owed. One consultation, UV rehydration and a dose of Gravol: 23,000 colones, about $40. Back at home, my son slept for two hours, got up, and felt fine. No stomachache, no throwing up; just a bit pale. Back in Colorado, if I had gone to the after-hours clinic, we would have probably waited for 45 minutes, I would have paid a $50 copay with my Kaiser insurance card, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have given my son anything to rehydrate, stop the vomiting, or replenish any intestinal flora. Give him Pedialite and let the virus run its course, I’m sure, would have been the medical advice.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009