Sparing you all the gory details, let's just say, all was well Monday at bedtime and it hasn't been well since, well, for Camryn that is. The poor thing has been sick, very sick, sicker than I've ever seen either of the kids.
I've always had a "wait and see"attitude when it comes to visiting the doctor. I've been burned too many times by those words "it's just a virus, it'll have to run it's course"- that'll be $75 dollars please.
I certainly wasn't ready to rush off to the Brazilian doctor over a tummy upset and a low grade fever...until day four rolled around, three sleepless nights had passed, and loads and loads of laundry had been hung to dry. This wasn't running the course fast enough for me.
The good news- we had received our international health care cards days earlier, hoping to put them away, never to be used.
The bad news- we have no doctors in Brazil yet, hoping to wait until we spoke a little Portuguese.
The crazy news- when you're sick in Brazil, unexpectedly, you just go to the hospital emergency room.
Now we all know what the emergency rooms in the US are like, the hours you wait to be seen, the "patients" you witness while you wait. It can sometimes look like a horror show, especially to a four year old who hasn't eaten or slept in three days. I avoid the emergency room in English, but I was terrified of the emergency room in Brazil.
Fortunately my fear of a dehydrated daughter was greater than my fear of blood and guts, so off we went to Albert Einstein Hospital, the largest hospital in Brazil and the best hospital in South America (so we've been told). I do need to add here, that David took the day off work, unasked, without a word of how hard it would be to reschedule all his meetings. He knew I couldn't handle all this on my own. He never considered letting me.
Lucky for us, the hospital is very close to the apartment and some of the directional signs on the campus were also in English, so we felt we had gotten close to the right place. One other great thing about Brazil, there are valets everywhere you go. Pull up, get out and hand over the keys.
Once inside, we approached a 40 ft reception desk and used our best opening line "Falla Ingles?". It serves two purposes, they know we don't speak the language, and they find someone who speaks English. We were immediately ushered to an information desk where a lovely girl inquired what was wrong and escourted us through the hospital. David and I are repeatedly amazed at the compassionate treatment we receive as foreigners. We often wonder if non-English speakers would be treated as kindly in the US.
After an elevator, sky-walk, several turnstiles, and long hallways, we arrived at the dreaded "Emergency Room". Wait, this can't be the right place. Where's all the moaning humanity, the blood soaked bandages, the screaming children? This looks like a Doctor's office, and a peaceful one at that. Again the lovely girl found another English speaker to hand us off to and the official visit began. It went like this.
Desk One: name of patient and type of emergency (took two minutes).
Waiting Area One : sit down and get right back up for triage nurse.
Triage Nurse : Took Camryn's temperature, pulse, weight, and asked a few questions about symptoms, then asked us "Have you been to the beach?". Did I hear her correctly? I repeat the Portuguese word for beach to be sure I understand the question. "Yes, beach." Yes we have been to the beach. "Ok follow me." she says. But wait, what's the beach have to do with it? My kids wore sunscreen, I swear. It can't be heat stroke or sun poisoning. They were fine. This step took about five minutes.
Desk Two: More detailed information about insurance, address, phone. Gee, you actually see a nurse before you fill out all paperwork. What a concept, since it's a little hard to concentrate when you're having a heart attack. This was the longest process, but a very short wait time in US standards, maybe twenty minutes.
Now we wait (in a waiting area specifically for kids, that looked more like a pre-school classroom than a hospital) for our number to come up on a digital board, telling us which examination room to proceed to. Wait time - five minutes.
Proceed into examination area where I'm expecting curtain contained beds in one big room. No such thing. Actual rooms, with doors, private bathrooms, and the Dr.'s Desk, with the actual Dr. sitting there waiting for us. Again, we think, we can't be in the right place. We were. The Dr. first talked with us for a bit about symptoms and then the question "Have you been to the beach?". Yes we have. And apparently we brought home a Summer beach regular, the dreaded Beach Virus. Who knew. Well we do now.
After examining Camryn, the Dr. determined that she wasn't dehydrated yet, but that she needed fluids and fast. Thankfully, instead of an IV, she opted for a anti-vomitting medication to allow Camryn to take in fluids orally. At this point, I'm thinking, now pharmacy, medicine, wait to see if it works and maybe another trip to the hospital if it doesn't. Not in Brazil.
Off we go to another room. If you've had chemo, it looks like that. Nice comfy recliners, IV stands, TV, refrigerator. In comes a nurse with the pill, gives to Camryn and we're sent back to the fun room to wait. All's well 40 minutes later and out comes the nurse with a snack tray for Camryn. Not just a juice box and a pack of crackers either. Several juices, and a variety of cookies and crackers. If she can keep this down for an hour, we're free to go. Yeah, it works.
Another consultation with the Dr. in which we get a prescription for more magic pills and we're out of there. A very pleasant experience really. I was the most relaxed I'd been in days, sitting in that room, waiting and seeing. When we talked to the Dr. at the end, we discussed how we should proceed if the kids get sick unexpectedly in the future. "Come here" she said. "This is the best place". Well Dr., I have to say I agree with you. And I know where we won't be going this weekend- To the beach. Don't go the big beaches in January and February we now hear. The virus goes too, and it loves to catch a ride back with the kids.
P.S. Camryn is now doing fine, mostly worn out. And even after all this, I'm still loving Brazil.
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