Our little caboose has been struggling with a terrible cough for some time. As per usual, we tried to ride it out hoping that his God-given, healthy body would fight off the bugs. But, after 2.5 weeks of coughing all night, I gave in and stated that we were heading to the doctor - today - no excuses! Problem is, even though we have Spanish health insurance I have no idea how to use it. After a few hours on the Internet and phone, it was revealed to me that no doctor could fit him in because it was, yet another, National Holiday. So on the advice of a friend we headed to the 24-hour 'Urgencias'. Somehow I was thinking we were going to an urgent care clinic, not an ER, so when our GPS took us to the emergency room I nearly turned the car around. But that poor little boy was coughing and choking so in the back seat, so I pushed down the urge to avoid a sticky language situation and we herded the family in.
Side note: In Spain you have to pay for parking at medical facilities, even hospitals -- but luggage carts at the airport are free. In the US you pay for luggage carts but parking at most healthcare facilities (I've been to) is free. Not wrong, just different. Somehow though, I begrudged having to pay for parking when I had a sick three year old in tow. I think I'd rather pay for the luggage cart when I'm healthy.
Turns out, all the triage areas at the hospital are filled with coughing and feverish folks. No gun shot wounds, or broken bones to be found here. The place looked like a regular medical waiting room. The wait was a bit long due to the holiday but eventually we got a diagnosis - Bronchitis - and were on our way out (to pay for parking) and get prescriptions.
That first round of antibiotics wasn't potent enough to do the trick. Probably has something to do with the fact that two weeks ago I didn't realize a 'nevera' was Spanish for 'fridge'. I admit I botched that round by leaving the antibiotics on the counter, and not in the fridge. Well, when you are busy mixing and shaking and translating kilos to lbs and calming a boy who hates medicine some things tend to slip your mind.
After 10 days, not much improvement, and the onset of a 2 a.m. ear ache, I woke with a renewed energy to tackle the "we need a doctor" situation. Thanks to a friend's recommendation I found one that accepted our insurance on the first try. They were so kind to put up with my 'muy malo español' for several minutes. But at one point I was told to wait and I knew they were trying to fetch someone whose English was better than my Spanish. I asked if they could get him in today and they offered, "Okay, can you come right now"? Of course I could! After 20 minutes of the GPS taking us the most indirect route, we arrived at the location and found free street parking. Yes! Things were looking up.
The office building didn't have a number or the doctor's name on the door. I was standing outside wondering if this was the right place when a kind mom suggested I go in, informing me it was the doctor's office. (How did she know?) We entered, it was small and very clean. Even better, the nice nurse-man I had talked to on the phone immediately knew it was me and ushered us straight back to the doctor. Apparently, I don't blend it so much. I had no appointment and there were others obviously waiting for their appointments in the waiting room, but we were swept right in.
We were taken back to an office/patient room where we were told to take a seat in front of desk of a pleasant, youngish women. She asked about our wee one's health history. She asked five questions (not five hundred) and took neat hand written notes on a half sheet of paper. It was only when she asked us to take him over to the table and began examining him that I realized this was the doctor. All the time I thought it was some assistant. Nice nurse-man remained with us the entirety of the visit comforting and genuinely trying to sooth my baby too. The both practiced their rusty English with me and insisted it was their pleasure to do so. After the observations were completed we retreated back to her desk where she again neatly hand wrote the prescription for four different medications and the detailed instructions on how to administer them in English.
When I went to leave I asked if they needed my insurance card, realizing it was in Daddy's wallet after the previous hospital adventure. They said any kid's card would do. No copay. No showing of ID. No filling out those obnoxious multi-page forms. (You know the ones.) I heartily thanked them (I could have kissed em) and headed around the couple of blocks up the street to the pharmacy.
I love these pharmacies! Here's why. It's simple and easy! You hand the piece of paper to the clerk who returns in an instant with all of the medications, puts them in a bag, I pay and leave. Grand total for all four medications -- € 22 ($30). No insurance needed - you don't need insurance for medications in Spain because it's already so cheap. Then she handed me back my prescription. Guess we could go back for more ... ?
If you are a Mom or you've ever lived in the US you don't need me to belabor the differences between the US and Spanish ways of dealing with medical appointments and obtaining prescriptions. Let's just say I don't miss the long waits and piles of paper work.
Some Things Are Easier Here.
With the news that we only have to wait six more days for our possessions, the safe arrival of two big boxes bursting with Christmas presents from the Grands, and our new phones finally obtained from a long wait in customs -- it feels too as if some things are getting easier. It's all Good news here in our 'casa' as we await the Celebration of the Best News ever, Christ's birth.
Merriest of Christmases to you and yours. You are well loved and missed from abroad.
