I SURVIVED!

And what, you ask, did I survive?

My trip to the Chinese hospital. That is what I survived. And oh man... it was an experience. FYI: Socialized medicine SUCKS. Going to a doctor whose language you can't speak with a coordinator who is a pathological liar SUCKS.

Ok. Want to know the whole story? Here goes...

A few weeks ago I developed a little cough. About a week ago a couple of my roommates started throwing up. Luckily I escaped the flu bug, but I think it lowered my immune system just enough that my cough was really able to take over. Thursday Megan tried to talk me into going to the hospital. I would have none of it. But on Saturday night when my roommates barged inside after a trip to Xiaolan and announced that 'like it or not they were taking me to the hospital on Monday" I conceded that a trip to the doctor was probably in order. My body is exhausted, despite the fact that I've done nothing but sleep. My cough has moved nicely into my chest, making it difficult to breathe... so yeah. I consented to go to the hospital.

This afternoon our coordinator showed up, and we walked the two blocks to the hospital. (Side note: they don't have clinics here, so the hospital is where everyone goes --- so when I say hospital, think of a clinic for everything.) When you walk into the hospital you pay 1 yuan (about 20 cents) for a little booklet. You fill out your name, date of birth, and nationality, and any allergies you have. Then they send you to wait in a line.

When it got to be my turn the doctor asked a few questions, looked in my throat, listened to my chest, and then mumbled something to my coordinator as he wrote out a prescription. According to Megan, I got more attention that about all my roommates who have been to the hospital have gotten, almost put together. So I guess that's a good thing... anyways. When we asked our coordinator what he said she responded with "It's nothing serious. He's just giving you some medicine to take."

Nothing serious my foot. I can't breathe at night lady! But our troubles with our coordinator are beside the point...

After you get your slip from the doctor you proceed over to a little counter where you pay for your medicine. Then you walk to the neighboring counter and actually pick up your prescription. One thing I will say about Chinese: They like to do things efficiently. (Most of the time anyways.)

But then we headed back to the doctors cubicle to bully our coordinator into asking him to translate the names of my medicines into English. Because I paid for three different boxes of meds, that I'm supposed to take multiple times a day, for this condition that I was told is simply "nothing serious."

I will not miss the socialized Chinese medicine system when I come back to America. Not one tiny bit.

So now I'm home typing the names of these various things into google to try to work backwards to figure out what it is the doctor thinks I have.

Wish me luck :)

OH OH OH! And PS: When I got home from the hospital I received the best post-hospital-present EVER. Megan said, "Oh wait! I forgot! I have a letter for you." And then she procured a note from my family. Thanks for the letter family! I love and miss you all too!"