Adventures of a hospital visit in a developing country

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Sorry I have not updated this blog recently. I have been busy and then I got sick. I get sick usually about once every 1-2 weeks. Nothing major, just some unusual bowel movements, but that is something that we all have grown accustomed to. The other day, however, was much worse than I had experienced so after the pleading of others from my group, I decided to make a trip to the hospital- and I will never go back again.

I have been told that the University hospital should be avoided at all costs, so I opted to go for the top of the line, privately owned, Nyaho Medical Center in Accra, where serving others with speed and friendliness is at the top of their list. Let me try to paint a picture of what this hospital was like. Well first, I should explain, how I got to the hospital. A guy from my group, Sean, and I walked up to the tro-tro station at 1:30 am. Mind you, I have to shoo away taxis left and right all day, every day, but when I actually need one, they are no where to be found! So we make the trek up to the station, which is about a 15 min walk. We flag down the taxi and he actually spouted out a reasonable price. I fall asleep in the back and before I know it we are at the hospital.

The hospital is kind of like a motel, the corridors are outside and the rooms are enclosed. So the reception area is out in the open. I basically get eaten up by mosquitoes while I'm filling out paperwork... potentially getting malaria at the hospital while I'm waiting to be tested for it... ironic? That was fun, but before I even got the paper work, I had to deal with the receptionist. The receptionist was not the most well-informed woman and so it was very difficult to even begin the paperwork process. Now ISEP or any other international program would be quite foolish to send Americans to a foreign country, especially a developing nation, with no health insurance. I have health insurance, I just don't have the card, but the hospital has a list of all our names. Of course, there was no surprise to find that this woman had no idea what I was talking about, either because she just couldn't understand me or she had no knowledge of this list, or both. Whatever the case was, she was utterly perplexed and looked at me and Sean like we were out of our Oboruni minds. There was another man at the front and he seemed to recognize ISEP- which he should've seeing as there were already two of us who had gone up there earlier that day, one of which was admitted and being treated for typhoid and malaria at that very moment. So he gives me my paperwork to fill out. I hand it back to the lady and she looks at me and goes 'You have no phone?' 'No, I don't' 'How long have you been here?' 'Since August' 'And you have no phone?' 'It just got stolen a couple days ago and I don't plan on getting another one, so no I have no phone!' After they accepted my paperwork and I paid my fee I was sent to examination room 2. Except, there was no room marked as that, so we wandered and eventually they showed us where to go. A nurse came in, very unhappy that she had to woken up to do her job, to take my temp and BP. I was then sent to waiting room number 2. I met with the doctor and he sent me to go get blood work and get my stool sample analyzed.

Without going into too much detail on the stool sample, I do have to share what the facilities were like. There were 2 stalls in the female bathroom. I went in and looked at one, there was a dead dragonfly on the floor with a swarm of huge red ants trying to carry it away so I opted for the other stall. There were only a few ants in that one. So I do the best I can and then find my way to the lab. We rang the bell twice (there are different instructions for each door at this place, I swear) and then the lab tech came to answer. His name was Famous. Famous was interesting. I told Famous that my veins were hard to find, he didn't seem to believe me. He couldn't find them in my right arm so he went to the left and I could tell he didn't actually find it, he just kind of stuck that needle right in. It bruised immediately, thanks Famous. I look like some junkie with busted veins now, my arm is tore up. Anyway, while Famous is taking my blood, he, like every other Ghanaian man, decides now is a GREAT time to hit on me. Where is the couth? I look and feel like death, and you decide, after you tore up my vein, that now is a great time to do this Famous? So he tells me to wait for the results. Sean falls asleep in waiting room while I make 2 more trips to the bathroom. There are now 2 dead dragonflies, one in each stall. I spend the time smashing red ants as I do my business. I come back and Famous is now done, he makes a comment on my stool sample, it was really romantic. He tells us to go wait in waiting room 2 for the doctor.

We go and wait, Sean falls asleep, I try to stay awake. Of course, that was easy because they are doing construction on some of the waiting rooms nearby. Yes, construction, it is now 4:00 am and they have actually been doing construction the entire time- because why not do construction in the wee hours of the morning at a hospital- it's not like there are sick people that are trying to rest or anything. After awhile I figure that there was no one coming so I go up to the front to ask, and I was right, he called the doctor for me.

The test for malaria is negative, but we knew that because I am taking the malaria medication so even if I do have it, it won't show up. He thinks it's some parasite and bacterial infection and prescribes all this medication (it’s like standard for whenever anyone has gone to the hospital- they seem to always give us Imodium, although, a lot of times, we shouldn’t be taking it. I want to tell them that Imodium is not a cure all diarrhea drug)... like I actually need a prescription to get medicine here. So I go to the pharmacy and pick up what I need and head back. We get back to the hostel at 5:30.

I am feeling fine now. It took a little longer than I would’ve liked to get back on my feet, but everything is good. I am grateful for all those in my group who kept an eye on me and made me take my meds even if they tore up my stomach and made sure that I was drinking plenty of water and re-hydration salts which were not as pleasant as drinking Gatorade.

They gave me a card at the hospital when I first registered, and I told me to keep it so I can give it to them when I come back- I told them that I hoped I never had to see them ever again because I do not want to go back.

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Comments

[Rene]

ohhhhhhhh
I feel for you! I got sick on my last trip, I know how miserable you must of been. there's no place like home when you feel like ----. You must be about ready to pack up. I'm sure it must seem like it has gone fast, and then it seems like you have been ther a long time. Have a safe trip back! Rene