Sunday, January 27, 2013

Sick Overseas


            Since starting this blog, I decided that the only way it would be effective is if I made posts as often as possible, in order to insure that nothing about my findings and excursions would be left out.  The only problem with that was I never considered getting as sick as I did this week. 

Now, if anyone knows me well, they should know that I NEVER go to the doctor’s.  Not just because I don’t like hospitals, and I believe home remedies work just as well, but also because I barely ever get sick.  Looking back, I did not step into a doctor’s office once in 2012, except for a regular checkup.  When we were listening to orientations about hospitals in the UK, I naturally tuned part of that out because the likelihood of me needing a doctor was slim to none.

            I could not have been more wrong.

On Monday I began feeling ill.  I won’t include any of the details of what it was I was sick with because illness itself is not the most glamorous of topics, but I will say it was something that I had suffered from before and was able to defeat simply by staying hydrated, resting a lot, and having just the slightest tolerance for pain.             
After being irritated for four days, by Thursday, I was in full sick mode.  Even standing in a hot shower for hours on end couldn’t take the pain away. 
            I felt like I was dying, and I was far from my mother’s cuddles and infinite home remedies.
            I was doomed to die….

Luckily, the afternoons weren’t so bad, so I knew if I got myself to work, I would be fine and by night, I could home to curl up on the couch and scream with pain.   My flatmates went out to the pubs on the Friday, while I stayed at home and watched The Gladiator waiting for death to come. 
*Side note, the UK is more likely to edit out violence than sex.  This made The Gladiator the perfect movie to watch while sick.  It’s such a good story with a great score but the violence is a little intense, especially for someone who is on his or her deathbed.  So with that gone, my Friday night was not too shabby. (Except it was)

I knew I had to go to the doctor’s on Saturday or else it would just keep getting worse and become a much more serious problem.  Through all the pain, I dragged myself to the A&E (Accident and Emergency) at a nearby hospital.  Since it was a Saturday this was really my only option, and I knew they had a ward for the less serious cases that came to the A&E called the Urgent Care Centre (UCC).  Also, it is free to be seen.
           
Between the pain and my emotional need to just be taken care of, I pretty much fought back tears through the entire process.  It’s pretty embarrassing when the only other people crying in the A&E are sick children.  I filled out the paper work needed since I did not have a general practitioner and I was not a UK citizen. Somehow, through my tears and pain, I must have made the mistake of marking “Male” rather than “Female” on the sheet of paper.  I did not realize this until it was too late and had already gotten my hospital bracelet.  After a brief meeting with a doctor I was sent to the UCC, as expected, and waiting for about 2 hours.  This wait would have been a lot shorter, but the doctor on duty thought she was looking for a male named Janelle in the waiting room.  Seeing as I was the only one there, she finally called my name, and realized the mistake that had been made.

The appointment only lasted about 15 minutes.  I had been correct about the sickness I had throughout the week, but along the way I also seemed to have picked up tonsillitis, which is why I was also feeling quite achy and getting headaches.  She prescribed me an antibiotic and gave it to me on spot.  Slowly, I walked away, I kept waiting to be stopped and asked to pay for it, but nothing.

Part of me is expecting a bill in the mail for £400 antibiotics, but for the time being all I’m thinking is “WooHoo!!! FREE DRUGS FROM THE UK!!!” 

Still, this is quite odd to me.  The doctor had talked to me about my stay here.  She knew I was from the states.  Although most NHS services are free to the British, as someone who is practically an immigrant for the next four months, I feel this service should not have been free to me.  Being seen should have been free, but the medication? No.

Luckily, the insurance CAPA supplies for us reimburses us for any medical expenses, so if I do get a bill, I will be covered.  So it’s nice to have a backup plan. 

ANYHOW, that was my experience with being sick overseas.  It was the least fun I hope to ever have while studying abroad, but if it had to happen, I’m glad it happened early on.  Seeing as I don’t get sick very often, I am hoping this is the last time I will get sick for another year and a half or so.  Today I am relaxing, which is really quite a shame.  It’s actually sunny outside and is nearly 50 degrees so a quick walk through the park would be so nice.  I have to be smarter than that though.  I’m still pretty achy so I want this recover process to be as speedy as possible, which means putting any excursions on hold.  For now, I am going to sit back, read my book, drink lots of liquids and listen to the buses pass by my flat every 20 seconds.  What a perfect Sunday. 

Cheers,
Janelle

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