A paean to Travelling Companions, Chance Encounters, and the Kindness of Strangers.
Part 2: Chance Encounters and the Kindness of Strangers
I lie splayed in the dust in Plaza de America in Seville, taking inventory---legs-okay; head-no bumps, but the helmet is 3 feet away; bike-flattened on the ground next to me; ahhh, finger-some blood, swollen to three times its normal size, can't move it. "Call an ambulance, please, my finger is broken."
With great courtesy and concern, our guide, Niek, said, "uhhh, they don't send ambulances for fingers."
Thus began my foray into the Spanish, French, and Italian medical systems.
We left Gary with the bikes: Niek speaks Spanish, so I needed him to translate for me in the emergency room. I had my Blue Cross and Blue Shield cards tightly clutched in my hand, knowing I was covered!! The receptionist smiled, returned my cards, and told Niek, "We don't take those insurances." "How 'bout VISA?" "Certainly." I was covered!
Cutting off my wedding ring was the first trauma...Niek kept patting my shoulder and saying, "Think of Italy. Think of wine. Think of a pretty place. Think of your favorite music." All-the-while the medics needed larger and heavier metal cutters....
Xrays, consult--it's dislocated, not broken--, treatment--anesthesize the finger and pop that puppy back into place.
Dr. Jesus Cabezon Mariscal administered the anesthesia shot...I had Gary by the one hand that worked, the doctor had the other, massaging my dislocated finger...."la, la, la, la," my atonal, repetative distraction from the pain filled the exam room, "la, la, la, la, la," and then, as if rehearsed, Dr. Mariscal joined my chorus, "la, la, la, la, la," two-part disharmony. It was the kindest most humane gesture I've ever experienced in the ER.
Finger wrapped, huuuuge, white bandage covered my hand to the wrist....very dramatic. Not too painful, yet.
211 euros later, I was on my way to the pharmacy---did you register that? 211 euros, which translates to about $250...without insurance coverage.
Niek and his employers, Christobal and Sofia, stayed with us for the duration--making sure we were cared for and communicating. Later that evening, we met Niek and his girlfriend, Sanna, for drinks--one must dull the pain with whatever means are available.
In France, friend Lynne took me to her doctor, Dr. Galfard in the Village of Banon. No appointment necessary: just show up, sit in the waiting room, when you're next, he'll come and get you---he'll come and get you---no receptionist, no paperwork, just show up. He was kind and efficient and funny--it takes talent to be funny with someone in another language. I needed the laughs. He took a look, said things were fine, rewrapped the hand, and charged me 23 euro--that was 23 euro!
I thought it important to establish a relationship with a local doctor, so off I went to find an English-speaking one here in our town--easier said than done. I called Dr. Siliquini to make an appointment--he answers his own phone--he said to come on in. And no, he doesn't speak English; he reads it very well, but speak, uhh, no. His office is in the basement of the hospital, so the waiting room is a long, impersonal corridor with chairs lined up against the wall, filled with people. Hard to determine the procedure---when his office was empty, I tentatively knocked on the door and walked in. We amused him fumbling through the labyrinth of medical jargon in a foreign tongue; he was also patient and caring and thorough, AND, I have confidence in him. He looked at my hand, took an ultrasound, gave me a prescription and an X-ray, and refused to take any money---let me repeat that, he refused to take any money. There was a 24 euro charge for the X-ray.
The verdict is still out on the finger---is there tendon damage? We don't know yet. Will I have to have surgery? If there is tendon damage. If I need surgery, will I want to have it here, or in California? Don't know. Can it wait for 2 months until we get back to CA? Don't know. In the meantime, it moves more and more each day, certainly a good sign.
BUT, most importantly, I didn't go through this alone...my Gary has and will be here for every step, and Niek and Christobal and Sofia and Doctors Mariscal, Galfard, Siliquini, and our Travelling Companions (see Part 1) stepped up, unbidden, to offer support and succor. It's scary being in a foreign country physically vulnerable, luckily, I didn't have to do it alone.
I CANNOT go another minute without extolling the virtues of socialized medicine...if I was a visitor in the States, the emergency room alone would have cost thousands of dollars. It is an inalienable human right to have medical care, to have access to medications and doctors, to be treated for our ailments and still be able to put food on the table. Why are people so opposed to Obama's Health Care reform? I don't get it....Okay, I've stepped off the soapbox.
....but another issue has raised its ugly head--CHRONIC PAIN--(I have had it to one degree or another since my fall, and I have new-found respect and compassion for others.) I have friends who suffer constantly from one thing or another, bad back, poor feet, migrain headaches. And they suffer in silence. Each and every day they experience incapacitating pain, and still face the day, live moment-to-moment, read books and cook dinners, play tennis, and go to work. I don't know how they do it. It takes a special kind of courage and a strong desire to embrace life. I applaud you all.
So my adventure in Seville has enriched my life with people, renewed my faith in humanity, increased my awareness of pain, reenforced my support of Health Care reform, made me more sensitive to others. Geez, would it have been easier to take a sensitivity class??
Part 2: Chance Encounters and the Kindness of Strangers
I lie splayed in the dust in Plaza de America in Seville, taking inventory---legs-okay; head-no bumps, but the helmet is 3 feet away; bike-flattened on the ground next to me; ahhh, finger-some blood, swollen to three times its normal size, can't move it. "Call an ambulance, please, my finger is broken."
With great courtesy and concern, our guide, Niek, said, "uhhh, they don't send ambulances for fingers."
Thus began my foray into the Spanish, French, and Italian medical systems.
We left Gary with the bikes: Niek speaks Spanish, so I needed him to translate for me in the emergency room. I had my Blue Cross and Blue Shield cards tightly clutched in my hand, knowing I was covered!! The receptionist smiled, returned my cards, and told Niek, "We don't take those insurances." "How 'bout VISA?" "Certainly." I was covered!
Cutting off my wedding ring was the first trauma...Niek kept patting my shoulder and saying, "Think of Italy. Think of wine. Think of a pretty place. Think of your favorite music." All-the-while the medics needed larger and heavier metal cutters....
Xrays, consult--it's dislocated, not broken--, treatment--anesthesize the finger and pop that puppy back into place.
Dr. Jesus Cabezon Mariscal administered the anesthesia shot...I had Gary by the one hand that worked, the doctor had the other, massaging my dislocated finger...."la, la, la, la," my atonal, repetative distraction from the pain filled the exam room, "la, la, la, la, la," and then, as if rehearsed, Dr. Mariscal joined my chorus, "la, la, la, la, la," two-part disharmony. It was the kindest most humane gesture I've ever experienced in the ER.
Finger wrapped, huuuuge, white bandage covered my hand to the wrist....very dramatic. Not too painful, yet.
 |
| an hour after the "incident"... do ya think the bandage pulls any focus?? |
Niek and his employers, Christobal and Sofia, stayed with us for the duration--making sure we were cared for and communicating. Later that evening, we met Niek and his girlfriend, Sanna, for drinks--one must dull the pain with whatever means are available.
 |
| Niek with me and Gary Not my best photo....but before any serious drinking |
I thought it important to establish a relationship with a local doctor, so off I went to find an English-speaking one here in our town--easier said than done. I called Dr. Siliquini to make an appointment--he answers his own phone--he said to come on in. And no, he doesn't speak English; he reads it very well, but speak, uhh, no. His office is in the basement of the hospital, so the waiting room is a long, impersonal corridor with chairs lined up against the wall, filled with people. Hard to determine the procedure---when his office was empty, I tentatively knocked on the door and walked in. We amused him fumbling through the labyrinth of medical jargon in a foreign tongue; he was also patient and caring and thorough, AND, I have confidence in him. He looked at my hand, took an ultrasound, gave me a prescription and an X-ray, and refused to take any money---let me repeat that, he refused to take any money. There was a 24 euro charge for the X-ray.
 |
| My new Doctor, Dr. Siliquini, examining my finger-- or proposing? |
BUT, most importantly, I didn't go through this alone...my Gary has and will be here for every step, and Niek and Christobal and Sofia and Doctors Mariscal, Galfard, Siliquini, and our Travelling Companions (see Part 1) stepped up, unbidden, to offer support and succor. It's scary being in a foreign country physically vulnerable, luckily, I didn't have to do it alone.
I CANNOT go another minute without extolling the virtues of socialized medicine...if I was a visitor in the States, the emergency room alone would have cost thousands of dollars. It is an inalienable human right to have medical care, to have access to medications and doctors, to be treated for our ailments and still be able to put food on the table. Why are people so opposed to Obama's Health Care reform? I don't get it....Okay, I've stepped off the soapbox.
....but another issue has raised its ugly head--CHRONIC PAIN--(I have had it to one degree or another since my fall, and I have new-found respect and compassion for others.) I have friends who suffer constantly from one thing or another, bad back, poor feet, migrain headaches. And they suffer in silence. Each and every day they experience incapacitating pain, and still face the day, live moment-to-moment, read books and cook dinners, play tennis, and go to work. I don't know how they do it. It takes a special kind of courage and a strong desire to embrace life. I applaud you all.
So my adventure in Seville has enriched my life with people, renewed my faith in humanity, increased my awareness of pain, reenforced my support of Health Care reform, made me more sensitive to others. Geez, would it have been easier to take a sensitivity class??
 |
| pre-fall...the big orange butt on the right belongs to me! Plaza de Espana ahead |
