Adventures in China: Little David Visits the Hospital- September 4

Little David Visits the Hospital

I can sometimes be uncomfortable in medical situations.

Perhaps it would be more accurate to state that there are aspects of certain biomedical procedures which may prompt misgivings in my otherwise calm and measured emotional landscape.

No, that is perhaps not quite right either.  Let me try again.  Ready?  Here goes:

Going to a doctor gives me the willies.  Big time.  Really.  It’s scary and creepy, and I know it will all end up in tears, so let’s just drop the whole thing and do something else, okay?  Got it?  Good.  Don’t mention it. Ever. That’s fine, I know you just let it slip out; no hard feelings, you had no way of knowing.  Let’s just forget you brought it up.

Oh? That was me?  Really?  How embarrassing.

Those who share my secret, well concealed, minor sentiment are well aware that it can have an occasional negative impact on one’s quality of life.  Like the time I hobbled around York University during my frosh week because it seemed less painful than tending to my broken foot.  Or the blood poisoning episode.  And there was an incident when I fell off the baulk and landed on a sharpened trowel. It was a 4.5 Marshalltown if you must know.

I’m not stupid.  When I weighed the pros and cons of these situations it became clear that the attention of a medical professional was, overall, more desirable than the alternatives.  It just took me a bit of time to ensure I’d thought things through.  Got it?

But today I didn’t get a lot of time to think.  Today was different.

It all started quite tamely.  We were told we had to go to the local hospital to get chest x-rays because the medical reports which had accompanied our visa applications were summaries and did not include the images themselves.  Meet the driver at 9:30 am and off we would go.  All quite simple really.

I started to get an inkling that things were not precisely as hoped when we seemed to be driving away from the local hospital and towards downtown Changchun. But Elizabeth was with me, which always makes me feel safe.  Besides, there is just so much to see when you are being ferried through a Chinese city for the first time. Tramways. Huge shopping malls.  Giant cinemas. Beautiful exotic topiaries.  The Zoo.  An amusement park. Weird and wonderful vehicles on the road, sometimes coming towards us.  In our lane!

That was close. Lucky somebody honked.

The Changchun Travel Medicine Agency is a beautiful modern hi-tech facility with a multi-station reception centre.  The efficient friendly women who filled out our forms on line also took our pictures, got our signatures, and managed to provide us with a full set of documents in minutes.  So clean! So neat! So convenient!  Forward to radiology!

And that was good too.  Very quick, very clean. Painless.  Alright, I thought, we’re out of here. Huzzah!

Then we were directed upstairs.  Another bright clean corridor with neat efficient and capable staff. And that was the corridor where I nearly became completely unhinged.  

That was where I finally got around to reading the forms which had been thoughtfully provided in English as well as Chinese.

Blood samples!  Urine samples! Blood pressure test! Colour blindness test! Height and weight! Abdominal ultrasound! ECG! Who did they think I am, Henrietta Lacks? 

No, I told our minder, there must be some mistake – we went through all of that stuff over a period of about a week (including trips to several locations around Ottawa) when we applied for the visas!  And at considerable expense too.

No, I was told.  Those were to get into China.  

These tests are required by the local health authority if we are to live and work here.  They were sympathetic, kind even.  But I was there, and the testers were waiting . . .

Twenty minutes later it was all done. In that short intense and painless interval the efficient and gentle people at the clinic managed to gather a lot of information I had until now assiduously avoided.  Blood and urine both wet; no surprises there.  Blood pressure: yup. Colour blind? nope.  Height and weight present and accounted for.  Lungs check; ditto for the heart. Not pregnant either, but possibly cultivating a small gallstone.

 

Then back to the campus for an early lunch.  All is well, and with luck I am done for another year.

Lessons learned: a Chinese physical is faster, more convenient and less expensive than back home.  That was a pleasant surprise.  Second, Changchun’s medical facilities are top-notch and impeccably maintained. That’s good news for everyone here, not just the Chinese. 

And finally, the experience was not a bad one. I don’t have to wait for blood poisoning – or fall into a pit – before I face a medical practitioner.  As I age, so must I take better care of myself; and I don’t have to do it all alone.

That may be the most valuable lesson the Chinese have taught me today.