sick day...

Each class I deal with 40 some runny nosed little munchkins with constant streams of goobers dripping down their faces (especially in first grade). Needless to say I only get two or three days of relief between colds. Don't worry mom. Usually its nothing major, just enough to require a pack of tissues be within arms reach at all times. Last week however, my cold got the best of me. Before I knew it, I found myself leaving school early Monday afternoon with a case of the chills and a sore throat. Once I got home, I collapsed in my bed and began the traditional sick day movie marathon. It unfortunately didn't do the trick. The next day, I couldn't imagine going to my classes and was just plane feeling lousy. I took a taxi to meet with my boss Mr. Ye. In slow simple English I told him I was feeling very bad and needed someone to take me to the doctor. He responded immediately. Together we marched to the English office. He asked around to see who was free. Finally, he assigned a Chinese teacher named Season to take me to the hospital down the road.

There are many co-teachers/Chinese English teachers in our English department. To be blunt not all of them have a strong handle of the English language. The last person I wanted to take me was Season. Her language skills are pretty slim. When talking to her about their classes, another foreign teacher realized that she was just giving him the old smile and nod. She wasn't understanding a word he was saying! In the middle of their conversation, he looked her straight in the eye and said "I like to have sex with asian prostitutes". She blinked and nodded happily. A cruel joke maybe ,but regardless, she's clueless.

The hospital itself was a massive building towering over the street. I told Season my symptoms. Fever. Ear Ache. Sore Throat. She seemed confused. Meanwhile, we entered the hospital and were in the "First Aide Center" (there were English translations on the signs). We made our way through a maze of hallways to the main lobby. We registered. They told us to go see a doctor on the fourth floor. We walked up the stairs, a daunting task for someone feeling ill.

The hallways were crowded with people slumped against the walls and sitting in chairs, sick and waiting. Season lead the way. She did not seem confident and together we tried to find the correct place. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she started walking faster. Maybe she found it! I looked up at the sign over the nurses station she brought me to. It said "Neurology department". I stopped her and tried to explain my symptoms again.

After asking a few more white coats, we went down a crowded hallway, sat outside the doctors office and waited. When it was my turn, Season was polite enough to close the door after we entered the room. This however did not stop other sick people from trying to come in to wait and to tell the doctor they were there. Privacy is something that is a protected right in hospitals back home. It doesn't exist here.

My exam consisted of me telling the doctor my symptoms. I opened my mouth and she said "there is something wrong with your throat". She asked if I had a fever. I told her I didn't know. She sent us back out into the lobby. I took my own temperature and reported back to her. The exam was over. After we left, Season told me the doctor suggested I get a blood test. We went to the "blood Center" got my prescription stamped, went all the way back down to the main lobby to pay and then back to the blood center where they took my blood.

When Season handed the results to the doctor, they started arguing! I was handed two prescriptions and then we left. The only thing Season had to offer about this was "there is something wrong with your body". I kept insisting she explain more. She kept telling me "I don't know how to say" but "you must get an injection".

We took my prescriptions to the "Injection Center". At this point I started to get nervous. The doctor didn't even touch me? Why were they arguing!? What is an injection center

The "injection center" is a big room with four televisions, a bunch of chairs, and IVs. People go their during their lunch breaks to get their daily dose of antibiotic drips. It was very casual and unlike what I'm used to. It confirmed the rumour I heard about this hospital. No matter what you go in for, they put you on the drip :) They tested me to make sure I wasn't allergic to my medication. Then they pumped the drugs straight into my veins. I sat for about 2 hours and also had to go back for two more days; two more injections.

The atmosphere at the hospital wasn't like anything at home. First of all, the set up (paying, going to see the doctor, paying, getting a blood test, paying, getting an injection) involved lots of running around. It made me feel disorganized and most of all exhausted! Also, it seemed more casual than at home. I was very skeptical and hyper aware of the fact that it wasn't sterile. Maybe its because I've worked in hospitals before, but I felt like I was noticing every speck of dirt. People were smoking. I saw drops of blood on the floor and garbage lying around. Nothing too bad. Even now I'm not sure if it was actually dirty or if the casual atmosphere just made me notice things more and think that it wasn't sterile. I felt uncomfortable. I felt sick. I felt confused. The only reason I agreed to the injection was because there was an English name on the box of antibiotics (so I could look it up online/see what they were giving me).

Even though I was frustrated with Season, the truth is that I don't speak Chinese but I'm living in China. I was grateful that she was there. With a lot of rest and two more injections, I've managed a full recovery. Those antibiotics most have done the trick too. Its been almost a week since my last sniffle :)