So I’ve been away for awhile, my apologies. The combination of working and being sick has put me out of writing commission for the past few weeks. Last Monday, though, it came to a head and I had to go to the doctors. Oh woe is me! The following is an account

This is an artist’s representation of my illness

So, I’ve been sick(ish) for about a month or so, and unlike in DC, when I could take off work for a mild hangover, Spain is a little different. My work pays me hourly, so if I don’t show up, I don’t get paid. If I don’t show up, I must go to the doctors, added emphasis on the must. If I don’t go to the doctors, I loose money, which blows. As you can imagine, I did not go to the doctor. This is the result of a couple of reasonings.

One, I didn’t have a European Health Card. I spent the better part of a month running around getting all the working documents, etc… and I did not want to bother to going through Spanish bureaucracy again. Spanish bureaucrats are so bad, I’m putting off writing about them because I hated that experience so much.

I thought of putting a picture of a bureaucrat here, but just no.

Second, I’d lose money because I wasn’t working… Bummer

Third, it’s the doctors. Who likes going if they don’t have to. You feel like you’re going to get more sick going there.

Well anyways, as per usual, my procrastination did not save me, and when fever struck Monday night, strike hard it did. I think I also got Yi sick, so that’s never good. On top of that, the electricity went out that night as well. So that was fun. Tuesday morning I dutifully decided to go to the hospital, American insurance card in hand. Surely, if anything could save me, it was Aetna. As I arrived at the hospital, walking like an extra in the Walking Dead, not only was my insurance refused, but a 230 Euro down payment was needed to see me. What??? Isn’t this Spain, the land of free social services? Shouldn’t I just need to walk in and ask for a 30 day supply of Valium, and be sent on my way? Alas it was not so. Oh no, they said, you need to go next store. So next store I go, and refused again. I’m directed to the next building, who does see me, but offers to charge 60 Euros, instead of 230. Thats nice.

“Oh, but you can get services for free, you just have to go to this government office, get this form, then go to a different hospital in your neighborhood, even though this is closer.” Right… Which government office was that again?

Flash forward the kilometer stroll to the office, “You don’t have the paperwork needed. Come back with this form, photocopied, original signature and identification of all parties signed.” Great. Onward to the other clinic, maybe they’ll see me without the papers.

After arriving I soon found that this clinic was the rare exception to all the other medical centers I had been today. It was, in fact, a every Republican’s dream of what socialized medicine would do to a doctors office. I was in a room with about 30 other people, waiting in line, to speak to a woman who knew no English, about a sickness I couldn’t describe. An hour passed and we made it through the line of crying babies, infirm elderly, and otherwise healthy individuals who spent the time shouting into their phones.

Spain’s ticket puller industry must be doing very well. I got about five of these in one day.

“Dime,” the woman behind the desk said sharply, as I walked up. I never understand why Spanish language speakers haven’t found a nicer way to say “Hello, how can I help you.” Instead they look at you and just say “Tell me”.

Anyways, I explain my pathetic situation, and the woman responds quite helpfully, that I could see a doctor that day. So print print print, sign sign sign, make an appointment with your paperwork to fix it up another day, off you go. Finally a doctor, except no. Yi and I went to wait in another room for another hour and then some intern got her way around to see me, while Yi waited awkwardly next to the half open door. Whatever, just give me my drugs and I’ll be on my way. Thanks. I even made an appointment to get my card later in the week, which entitles me to services anywhere in Spain. So, no more walking around like the dead. A special thanks to my long suffering girlfriend for traipsing around with me on her days off, providing much needed moral support when I know she could’ve done more productive things like, browse buzzfeed and pintrest.

The coolest thing about the whole process was, that after I was seen by a doctor they sent a letter to my employer saying I wasn’t allowed to work, and that they had to pay me for missed hours. This was called the Baixa (Lower), and it was good for minimum two days, maximum of four. When I felt better I had to return to the office and get the Alta (Upper) and bring it to my work, which allowed me to return the following day, not that day. So that was pretty cool.

Yaaaay medicine!

As I left I pondered the whole situation. The problem with the medical system here wasn’t that people were waiting too long, or that services were substandard. That whole idea that socialized medicine will leave people to die in long lines, didn’t really match up, regardless of the scene I described earlier. Because I walked into at least three other clinics that were empty, EMPTY. I wasn’t able to go there because they were out of my zone, and in wealthier areas. That’s only relevant because since it seemed that the funds needed to support the clinics, came from the residents of the immediate area around the clinic, the poorer clinic was disproportionately affected and understaffed. I think that if there was a better way to allow more freedom of movement between clinics, i.e. not requiring someone to only go to their neighborhood doctor, the wait time which I observed would be different. And if the funding scheme changed a little, I believe that the building might’ve been a little cleaner, and more doctors would be there as well.

Just some thoughts…