These first few days
in Turkey have been quite chaotic - but, hey - such is life. Within my first two days in Turkey I visited
two different hospitals in two different cities - one planned and one unplanned
visit. It has been interesting for me to
see some of the inner workings of the Turkish healthcare system and so far,
while different is some aspects - it seems that the system is quite efficient.
Trip
1: The Planned Visit
We woke at six in
the morning to get ready for our trip. I
was perhaps a little too lethargic getting ready and cooking my eggs so that we
ended up running around last minute - me gulping down my American coffee and
throwing on my unzipped boots as we quickly got into the elevator. We had an appointment at a private hospital
in Gaziantep where H. would be having a minor surgery. The appointment had been arranged by an old
middle school teacher of H. and had helped us avoid weeks of waiting, so we
didn't want to be late. We had good
intentions at least...
 |
This was the view of the road - on a good spot. It was quite beautiful, but not good for driving.
(Photo by Turklish) |
The weather was
still foggy and wet, not the best for driving in an unknown area. We ended up missing the correct exit to Antep
and had to take a round-about way to get into the city. We eventually found the right neighborhood,
but we were already one hour later for the appointment. Now we had to find the hospital and a place
to park. Not as easy as it might
seem. With the fog it was hard to tell
what was around us and there were large open areas with crumbling buildings -
it didn't seem like we were in the right place.
We stopped to ask for directions from some men huddled around a coal
fire next to the road.
"Keep going up
the hill." One man directed.
So we went. We eventually found the bright, clean, new
hospital atop the hill and after roaming for a parking spot for 10 minutes we
finally made it inside.
The next several
hours were a little confusing for the both of us as we maneuvered around the
hospital from doctor to doctor, office to office making all the necessary
arrangements and payments. Finally we
were in the hospital room and all we could do was wait. I was quite enjoying the cozy chair, managing
to sleep a few minutes in my jet-lagged haze.
Then all of a sudden a patient was rushed in on a gurney and I was
relegated to the hallway. The once
quiet hallway was now buzzing with the chatter of women, the play of children
and the men practically screaming on their cell phones. H. stood in the doorway in his hospital gown
trying to help me decide where I should go and wait until he was done with his
surgery. I eventually went down to the
main hospital floor to get a Nescafe and when I returned to the 4th floor my
canım had left for surgery.
I leaned against a
wall in the hallway between four ladies and a little boy to my left and four
men further down the hallway to the right.
They were all one big family I later learned. The ladies opened a conversation with
"geçmiş olsun" - "may you get better soon". Soon I was doing my best to decipher their
questions and respond with all the clarity I could muster. I learned they were from another city nearby, Urfa, and that they were Kurdish, which they would revert to speaking among themselves at times before asking me another question.
H.'s cell phone rang
almost non-stop as family called to check in on how we were doing and if he was
done with surgery. I did my best, but
apparently my Turkish is not up to par for communicating on the telephone. Noticing my exasperation and continued use of
"anlamıdım", one of the ladies took the phone and helped field
questions from the family, her sisters giggling behind her.
After half an hour
or so, we had exhausted the small talk that I could muster and we all sat
around in silence. They took their leave
down the hallway and I waited.
Soon the sister of
the neighboring patient came out to the hallway to test my Turkish. We did our round of questioning. This time I pulled out my dictionary to try
to answer some of her complicated medical questions.
Despite my
exhaustion, the language practice was good for me and helped me renew my
confidence that I could indeed "get by" with my Turkish.
To my relief, soon
H. came out of the elevator. Twenty
minutes later we were leaving the hospital and making our way back through the
fog to Maraş.
Trip
2: The Unplanned Visit
Not quite as
dramatic as it may sound, this unplanned visit came about around 10pm on
Thursday night. H.'s little nephew had a
lingering fever all day and while he was happy and running about, all were
worried and decided to go to the hospital.
This time we went to the public children's hospital in Maraş. Quite a different experience. There was one doctor sitting in front of a
hospital bed and the children were brought before him as he took their
temperature asked some questions and then prescribed the necessary
medicines. The moment the children were
laid on the table they all began to cry.
They all seemed to remember the pain they felt the last time they were
in a hospital (or so we imagined). There
were many worried parents around, and with the late hour, the hospital was
somewhat dark and depressive.
After the quick
visit with the doctor, we were ushered into a room with several beds and two
nurses. This room is probably where all
the bad hospital memories were born. The
toddler was quickly put on a bed and suffered a shot in the leg from a needle 2
inches long! I got a little bit queasy
myself just watching it.
Screams filled the
air and we were happy when it was over and we could leave. As we left, I noticed a trail of blood down
the hallway and no one seemed to be eager to clean it up. Food was being prepped near the doorway for
the night staff not more than 10 feet away.
Not very appetizing. I was happy
to get out into the fresh, cool night air.
While I was a little
disturbed by this last experience, I have to say - it was all very
efficient. In less than thirty minutes
we saw a doctor, got the necessary treatment, went home and the fever went
away. How long would that same hospital
visit have taken in America? Probably
several hours in my experience (and would cost at least a hundred dollars with
the crappy insurance I have).
The reality is there
could have been blood on the floor in any American hospital as well -
especially in an emergency waiting area.
Later, thinking through the experience, the quickness of it all (and the
fact that I didn't understand what was going on) might have enhanced my anxiety
of the hospital. Most of my hospital
experiences in America have involved private rooms with lots of waiting and the
appearance of cleanliness through lots of paper and disposable gloves.
In general I was
impressed by the service we received at these hospitals and the very low
cost. Even without insurance, H.'s
surgery was very affordable. With
insurance visits to the doctor or hospital are extremely affordable. It is a great service to provide healthcare
to your people - I hope Americans can come to an agreement on this issue as
well.
