fulllife

How to take care of your patient and rob her at the same time? - could be the title of this blog. And ”taking care”…? Well, that remains to be seen. I have not been writing for a while, I have been busy writing for the internet mediator I mentioned before and moved for the winter to the Canary Islands. That’s better for me, health-wise. And this is what happend there to me last night…:

After a long day I decided to treat myself to some Spanish ‘tapas’ (little tasty ’snacks’) and a glass of wine. So I walked to my favorite tapas restaurant where I know the owner Oliver and eating alone is not boring. Suddenly I stumbled (?) and fell flat on my face on the sidewalk. A passer-by and a store owner came to my rescue… My front tooth broken, my knee swelling up like a balloon and blood streaming from my broken lip and face… The store owner wanted to call an ambulance (they call an ambulance for almost everything here) but I could stop him. Between my sniffing (I was really crying, probably from shock) I told him in Spanish not to bother. I  called someone I know and she took me to the first aid in one of the hospitals.

There they took some X-rays - after I had to pay 60 euro’s just to enter the waiting room - and told me my knee looked like fractured. Great! But, the doctor told me, in another ER they have better equipment so you go there to make sure before we put on a cast. We went to hospital #2, to make sure with another X-ray. There they told me I had to pay 70 euro’s plus every extra cost as well and I had to sign for that. “Private hospital” this was… the word “private” would pop up some more times…

Doctor #2 took the X-rays, looked at them and asked me where the fracture was supposed to be. How did I know? He examined my knee (#1 didn’t bother to do that) and told me no way I had broken my knee, otherwise I could not have been able to make the movements I just did - with a lot of pain, though. So it was ‘just’ a heavy contusion, he concluded. Okay…? I got a bandage around my knee, was told to rest it for 3 days and take it easy afterwards. Plus I got 3 prescriptions for medications.

In the presence of me and my friend he called his colleague at hospital #1 and had a Spanish conversation with him. My Spanish is a lot better than he thought, and that of my friend’s as well. We understood that he called his colleague an idiot, a bastard to send me over to him and started lecturing him on his incompetence, ending the conversation on a friendly note and some heavy smirks on being a doctor and being a doctor robbing foreign patients (I could not understand of course because of al the grinning and smirking, but my friend and I were convinced that must have been the content of the end of the conversation).

At the reception they presented me with a fat bill. The 70 euro’s for the doctor I already knew about, but what was  that 45 euro’s doing there, and those 23? Well, the receptionist was happy to explain: 45 euro’s for the swaddling bands (2 rolls) and the 23 euro’s for transporting them (from one room to another, about 10 meters). I was already weary of the pain, the heat, the long evening, no food let alone tapas, so I shrieked: “What? 45 euro’s for two swaddling bands??? I could have gotten them for you from the pharmacy for 4 euro’s!” Yes, the receptionist explained, but this is a private clinic… And those 23 euro’s??? Yes, this is a private clinic… A security man was moving closer as I started to lecture the receptionist - I really was warming up to the exercise - and demanded where I could file a complaint regarding medical incompetence and outrageous prices.

The receptionist came to the conclusion that I could best file a complaint against hospital #1 since they had send me unnecessarily to #2… after all, they were private and all… I had to pick up a complaint form at hospital #1 and then file it to the authorities… So then I demanded a copy of the diagnosis of #1, to sustain my complaint, and reluctantly she gave me that.

We stormed out of the hospital - metaphorically, I could only stumble a little - and went to the pharmacy, to buy the medication. Later at home I found out by reading the information leaflet, that the painkillers are not to be taken by people who are taking anti depression medication - which I do - so more money wasted…

“Common’ ” I told my friend, “I will buy you a drink for all your trouble.” We went to my tapas restaurant that was about to close, but Oliver opened the bar for us again and poured us the glass of wine I should have enjoyed hours before. On the house, for he was so sorry for my misery… Salud Elisabeth! So we toasted and I promised I would come back as soon as I could walk the half mile again…

Trackback URI | Comments RSS