I still have lots of posts to share from my in-laws two and a half week visit. We went a lot of places and I look forward to blogging about them in the future. But today I wanted to share a little story about an experience I shared with my friend Tiff at a Spanish hospital on Tuesday. As you know from my profile, we are a military family and for the most part, I love it. It has brought us to this wonderful place called Spain and for that, I will be forever grateful. Spain is not the United States, however, and that makes for some interesting experiences when you’re trying to accomplish simple tasks when, unbeknownst to you, they don’t do it “that way” here. Case in point…
Madrid is a remote location as far as the military is concerned. That means we don’t have access to a lot of the services and facilities that we would have if we were stationed right on a regular military installation. One of the conveniences we don’t have here is the ability to go to an American hospital with English speaking doctors and nurses. I know some Spanish, but “solo un poco,” only a little. When you start having to fill out those “yes” and “no” medical history questionnaires, “solo un poco” turns into “solo un poquito,” only a little “bit.” Such was the case Tuesday afternoon, when I accompanied my friend, Tiff, to the hospital to get some lab work done and have an MRI. I went along to keep her company and to help her translate. Even though my Spanish is only a little better than hers, together we do a pretty good job of figuring out what people are saying in espanol. As my mother-in-law, Dee, noted people really don’t speak English here. Her travels in Spain have mostly been limited to the coast, where the cruise ships dock, and where people speak more English. That is not the case in Madrid. That’s okay, it good for my Spanish, but it does make it hard to communicate sometimes.
Tiff’s MRI was scheduled for 5:30pm, and she was informed by our health insurance rep that she could do her lab work beforehand, as the lab opened up at 4pm…after siesta. We walked into what we thought was the lab. “Aqui?” Tiff asked, handing the receptionist her paperwork. “Si,” was her reply. She then gave Tiff a slip of paper indicating that she was fifth in line at Door #5. So we sat down in the comfortable waiting room to wait her turn. It was really quite an efficient process. At exactly 4pm, a lab tech came out and gathered up everyone’s paperwork and numbers. Another woman entered the info into the computer, while the lab tech started drawing blood. In no time, it was Tiff turn. She went in alone, but I soon followed when I heard the one-sided Spanish conversation. They said they couldn’t do one of the tests (we didn’t know which one or why yet) and that they needed a copy of the authorization which I was able to get from the front desk while Tiff got pricked. When she’d had her blood drawn, the tech tried to explain to us why Tiff couldn’t get that one test done. He pointed to his crotch, and with a look of embarrassment, he started making a “psst” sound. Aaaah, the test he was talking about was a urinalysis. Then he showed us a cup, to “psst” in, or so we thought. Then he put the cup back on the shelf and told us that Tiff would have to go buy one at the “farmacia.” Wow, you had to bring your own cup? That would have been nice to know. Okay, point us in the direction of the pharmacy. Apparently, our assigned hospital doesn’t have one. Maybe none of the hospitals in Spain do. We don’t know. We would have to go “fuera,” outside, the hospital grounds to a pharmacy about five minutes away, to get a cup. Then she could “psst” into it in the morning and bring it in to the lab. Fine…we’d buy the cup after the MRI.
We walked over to the hospital and found our way to Radiology. This is when Tiff was handed one of those pesky medical history questionnaires all in Spanish. We did our best with it, and then the nurse handed us an English version of the first page, so we actually were able to answer almost all the questions. We were also able to see that Tiff wasn’t supposed to have her contacts in, but she did. She also wasn’t supposed to have worn make-up or hairspray, but she did that too. More things it would have been nice to know BEFORE your appointment. Oh well, she went to find a bathroom to see if she could at least wash off her make-up. She came back a few minutes later, looking something akin to a raccoon. The soap dispenser wouldn’t work and she had to use toilet paper to wash off her mascara and eyeliner. At least she got some of it off, I guess. Oh well…another nurse came in to inquire about Tiff’s question mark about her contacts and said it would be okay. So now we waited. We had a great time keeping ourselves amused comparing this whole experience to an episode of Seinfeld and talking about the full wall photo mural facing us in the waiting room. I thought it interesting that the photo looked like it was taken somewhere like the Swiss Alps or the German countryside, and in Spain. I guess everyone dreams of going somewhere seemingly more exotic than where they live. We started talking about how we want to take a trip over Christmas or New Year’s and that maybe Germany would be a good option. I said, “Hey, maybe would should take our picture in front of this mural and post it on facebook with the caption, “Look where we went today.” We died laughing and the poor Spanish man reading his newspaper did his best to ignore us. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, we were pretty tickled. We figured it might be a little over the top to take the pics with him sitting there, so we waited until he left after HIS wife’s MRI. We jumped up to take the pics before anyone else came in. We got our shot and giggled some more. Tiff got called for her MRI and our friend, Tab, popped in to keep me company while Tiff was in the tube. Don’t I have the best friends?? Once Tiff’s MRI was done, we followed Tab over to the pharmacy since she had been there before. Tiff explained as best she could to the pharmacist what she needed and she didn’t even have to make the “psst” sound to get her point across. The “pee-pee” cup, which probably cost less than 20 cents to produce, sold for 1 Euro. Tiff bought one and we almost bought some extra cups for ourselves, just in case, but it was busy and Tiff needed food. She hadn’t been allowed to eat or even drink water for the last six hours or so…off to MickyD’s, which is always empty at 7pm in Spain, so it was truly “fast food” that night! For me, the story ends there, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t let you know what happened when Tiff tried to turn in her sample the next day. The tech told Tiff to bring it, “por la manana,” in the morning. In Spain, “morning” begins at 10am as far as most businesses are concerned. Since there were no business hours posted at the lab, Tiff thought it would be a safe bet to take in her early morning sample after 10am. It’s not a hop, skip, and a jump over to the hospital, especially with traffic, and it was a trip she certainly didn’t want to make twice. She showed up at the lab, sample in hand, a little after 10:30am, but when she asked the receptionist if she could turn it in, she said, “No.” The lab was now closed. Apparently, it had been open from 8am to 10:30am that day and it would not reopen until tomorrow. What??? Why??? No reason was given. She could come back tomorrow. Well, that wasn’t an option, as she had already attached the label they gave her to the cup. So she marched back to Door #5 and placed it on the desk. Who knows if it will get processed or if it will be fresh enough to test, at that point Tiff didn’t care and I don’t blame her. If the test doesn’t come back, the doctor will just have to order it again. At least this time, she’ll know she has to bring her own cup and to call ahead of time to see just when the lab will be open on THAT day. Welcome to Spain! Hasta luego…
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