My first Hospital visit...

(Not for needle-phobes!)



Wednesday was such a bizarre day for me. I had a break between classes from 1-2pm, so I checked out the Tourism school's library in the basement. I found some Spanish sites about the Revolución Rusa so I studied a bit to kill the time.

Towards the end of Ecotourism, around 3pm, I started getting a headache. I stopped to talk with Sandy for a few minutes outside of class, then it really hit me. I didn't think I could made it home without taking a Tylenol, so I stopped at a bench and took some. It kept getting worse the whole twenty-minute walk back. Now, it was paired with a pretty painful stomach ache.

I finally made it home and decided I was going to try and sleep it off. I couldn't even lay down or sit up comfortably because my head kept wanting to roll off. I ended up spending most of the next thirty minutes crouched next to the toilet because I thought I was going to vomit (I never did).

I proceeded to call Jenn, Natalia, and Kayla, but no one was available to come over. I tried to Skype Mom for Mom-advice, but she wasn't online either. I tried to drink water and some coke (caffeine is good for headaches) but I couldn't stomach it. After a few minutes, Kayla got online and said she could come over and take me to a doctor.

I didn't think I could make it until she got here, so I ended up going next store to see if my landlady Maria José could take me. I was so lucky that she was home (she usually doesn't get home from work until 4pm) and was willing to help me. She walked me to Hospital Reina Sofia, about an eight-minute walk from my flat.

I carried a bag of stuff to the hospital: my water bottle, insurance info, insurance card, passport, Spanish-English dictionary, and a puke bucket (just in case).

My first interaction with a Spanish health institution was very strange. I had never been to a hospital for my own ailments, let alone one where they spoke exclusively Spanish.

I was so incredibly lucky to have had Maria José with me! Obviously, she is a little more fluent than I am and was able to steer us through the situation with ease. She couldn't, however, shorten the waiting time.

After we got out called out of the initial Urgencias waiting room, I sat at a desk while one nurse took my vitals, etc. and the other asked me a series of questions, in a serious hurry.

They put us through to the next waiting room, a place with lots of standing sick people. The wall was lined with wheelchairs, but there were no actual seats for the non-patients (like my landlady). We waited there for over an hour before I was called into a patient-room. The rooms were completely open and I didn't detect a serious concern for privacy or hygiene. At one point, a freaked-out woman burst through the waiting room with blood running down her arm and dripping all over the floor. The blood stayed on the ground for about 15 minutes...

Didn't have my camera in the hospital
so this is the only proof of my pain!

When I found out that they were going to take my blood, I was super freaked out. I am very afraid of needles! This was my first time having blood drawn, but it was surprisingly not as painful as I thought it would be. It may have been because I didn't have enough time to psych myself out, but either way, I was very grateful.

Then another surprise, they gave me medicine through an IV! The idea that I had medicine being injected directly into my veins freaked me out way more than the actual pain. I watched the IV drip without passing out!

I have seen Ricky get blood drawn and receive plenty of medicine through IVs so I was expecting it to be a lot worse; he had some pretty rough times... They always have trouble finding his veins, but I think I have nice, fat veins! They had no problem sticking it right in, haha.

They sat me on a wheelchair and rolled me back out into the waiting room. The crappy part was that they left the IV piece in my arm for the next two hours while we sat and waited for my blood results. I kept looking at it and getting grossed out. I know other people had more serious problems, but I wanted this thing out of my vein!

When I finally got called again, I was told that my blood seemed fine and it was probably something I had ate (sketchy cafeteria pizza?). They prescribed me some pain medication (super-extra-strength) and some meds for my tummy.

Maria José stayed with me and talked to me the whole time. I was so, so lucky and grateful for that! We bonded over our favorite cafés, pastries and wine. I was so excited when she said that Lambrusco was her favorite Rosé wine; I practically finished her sentence!

On the way home, we stopped at her favorite confitería and she bought me a croissant for breakfast the next morning! At home, she gave me the medicines that were prescribed to me as well as two muffins from our favorite café, Moreno. She told me that if my friend couldn't sleep over and make sure I was alright, I could stay in her guest room; so sweet!

Differences I noticed between American and Spanish hosptials?

• less concern for hygiene and privacy (noted above)
• less overall "care" for ER patients...letting them stand in the waiting room?
• higher strength meds in Spain overall (pharmacies), maybe bad in the long term but great in the short term!
• this hospital seemed less billingual (but keep in mind I am in Murcia, not Madrid)