A Visit to See the Doctor

This short despatch concerns our recent visit to the local hospital, which you should relate to as being a Doctor’s surgery or clinic. Whilst they are actually more than this as compared to UK medical services, these small hospitals still refer major problems to the most appropriate large hospital, with both Western and Chinese medicinal options available.

The Chinese sign for hospital, pharmacy or medical provision is a white cross set on a green chrysanthemum background. Often you will see this same sign but with a red background. The red colour simply signifies this is a local or private facility, not one administered directly via central government.

For minor complaints the local hospitals are fine and we are fortunate to have two such on our doorstep. From our ground floor entrance they are both literally 1-minutes walk Jim. My great friend Jim Chenoweth does not believe my personal interpretation of relative time, my ‘1-minute’ = his ’10-minutes’ or something similar. I think the truth lies somewhere in between, but it gives us something to make fun of whilst enjoying the occasional pint or three. Jim is currently teaching at a Guangzhou University, but has a long break coming up for Chinese National holidays, so we aim to catch up in a couple of weeks time.

Our other dear friend over in Urumqi is Denis Pavett of course. He has recently spent time in a large regional hospital, and is recovering very nicely from what I hear. I will leave it for him to tell you all about his experiences and what to expect when having an operation and week-long stay in a Chinese hospital. Get well soon Denis, we miss you!

Our visit was because of a minor ailment which our daughter Rhiannon first contracted a few days earlier. On Saturday evening we noticed one of her eyes was slightly red, and this got worse by the following morning. Siu Ying wanted Mama to accompany her to the major hospital for treatment, whilst Mama insisted the local hospital would be quite adequate. Mama had been staying with us for a few days, and she generally pops over for three days every 8 or so to give Siu Ying a lift – Babies can be very hard work, and whilst I try and do my share, I am not really very good with such young things. The row developed overnight, and I knew from the tone of voices there was a serious dispute in the air. Nonni recognised it also and would cry as soon as voices were raised. I had to tell them to keep it down – but it was not anything serious, as families in China can still love one another yet hold quite contrary views. It was nothing.

Siu Ying’s reluctance was due to the fact she had taken Nonni to the nearest local hospital a few days earlier, and had needed to wait for several hours to be seen for a very minor complaint – a head cold. Normally she would have brushed this aside of course, as we all do; but the sensibility of mothers who are still breast-feeding is quite different with no chances being taken. Quite right too! Siu Ying returned with some medicine that soon cleared up the malaise.

Eventually the ongoing disagreement between the girls was resolved when Mama decided she needed to go home, and Siu Ying was forced to take Nonni to be seen locally at midday on Sunday. This time she tried the other hospital nearby, which was a lot quicker. Rhiannon was seen immediately and it was confirmed she had an eye cold. She had a small injection and eye-wash, and was given folded papers within which were crushed medicines to be mixed with water and administered as a medicinal tea. For such a young thing she responded really well and apart from both eyes being swollen and red, she carried on as if nothing were the matter.

Come Monday and Siu Ying awakens to itchy and swollen red eyes, and she decides we both have to go for treatment immediately. I try to brush her aside saying stupid things like “This won’t affect foreigners” and similar. Ho, ho, ho! However, my right eye has the fist signs of an irritation so I acquiesce and we all make the trip together.

Our two little ‘cottage hospitals’, for want of better terminology and Western equivalents, are both very competent. The slightly closer of the two is also slightly cheaper, meaning it is always full and you may need to wait for an hour or so to be seen, as happened during Siu Ying’s first visit last week. Therefore we have taken to using the other one as it offers far better service.

We arrived on Monday morning at about 10 am, and were immediately greeted by a nurse – note: not a receptionist or admin assistant, but a real qualified Nurse. The Doctor was nearby chatting with another family, but upon our arrival they quickly said their goodbyes and we were seen immediately. The nurse was also in attendance so that she knew exactly what was required after our consultation. Apparently there is a local epidemic of eye flu, so after a cursory examination we were handed treatment cards and a list for the pharmacy. The Doctor remembered Nonni from yesterday, and also checked her progress, stating everything looked fine.

My paperwork was completed in my Chinese name, which roughly translates as ‘Mo Yur Han’ in Cantonese. Mo or Mao in Mandarin was given to me years ago by a friend from Hong Kong. Bearing in mind Cantonese have great difficulty pronouncing the letter ‘r’ my surname “Morris” was causing great problems. They would speak this as ‘Mo Lai See’; you understand the problem immediately I am sure. ‘Yur Han’ is correctly said “Yur’t Haan” with a very slight ‘t’. It is similar to John as known in Scandinavia, or Johan spoken with a ‘y’ sound.

The Nurse then took our paperwork to the adjacent pharmacy, which doubles as the payment point. My bill was Y72 and my wife’s Y98, which is probably less than current prescription charges in UK? This was the total for consultation and all medicines. The Pharmacist spoke to me in Mandarin, and I asked her to speak in Cantonese, astounding those present by handing over Y200 and telling her what the change should be before she managed to punch the bill into her calculator – something that I now find a tad demeaning. We all had a good laugh and it was fun as they probed my developing language skills. I even managed to get it right in Toisanwah, although I still find Mandarin pronunciation to be beyond me.

The same Nurse then takes up to the 2^nd floor (3^rd for Chinese and Americans) where we were entrusted into the care of two other nurses. They took our paperwork and medicine packs, whilst I noticed there were a dozen others here having treatment. No sooner had one nurse shown us to our seats and asked if we wanted a cup of water, than the other asked me to join her in their office. The nurse I was with led me through and asked me to sit down. Then she closed the door and asked me to lower my jeans for an injection in my behind. I protested of course (Just for the fun of it), miming a jab in the arm which was greeted by a pair of shaking heads. I then motioned for a drip, and they tittered and again shock their heads. It also became apparent from their looks and brief exchange that I was the first foreigner the younger nurse had ever treated. I was aware that the low window would not hide my modesty from any onlookers, but checking found this to consist only of my wife and baby – so OK then, here we go!

I think I managed to bare the appropriate area without giving anyone apoplexy, and was immediately asked to sit down again. A tad odd me’ thinks, even for China. I had worn a pair of boxer shorts purposefully for the occasion, as it is so hot here I usually go Commando. I am sure you all wanted to know that hahaha! What you may want to know is that the injection was expertly administered, even if my frame is about twice the size of that of locals. It was higher than I expected, being about level with my coccyx, and mid left buttock. The area concerned was first swabbed with something – presumably a form of Iodine or similar. All I felt was a slight scratch as the needle went in and in seconds I was done. The nurse remained to keep pressure on the point for 10-seconds, before informing me it was over and I could dress. I’m never sure just how we manage to do these linguistic exchanges. I remember she said ‘Sit Down’ in English, but the rest was in Cantonese – that message obviously being relayed from below. There was also a lot of appropriate mime going on in support of what was said – but credit where it is due, we all understood each other perfectly. Somehow my wife had wrangled having her medicine intravenously, so returning I found her attached to a drip that appeared to be set to ‘super-slow’.

Sometimes I like to reflect on the obverse; such as what would happen in Blighty if a Chinese speaker attended an NHS hospital or Doctors surgery for treatment? I could probably do most of it in Cantonese – barring any complicated words and medical terms. I guess in a major city hospital there would be a Chinese Doctor and nurses, but in an out of the way town? I really do not think so. This is one reason why I have the greatest of respect for ordinary Chinese people such as these that I come into contact with during the course of my normal daily life in China. Remember, the first they knew was when I rocked-up that morning for treatment.

During my days I have had a lot of injections for various things, and the most stupid remains Tetanus. I once broke my right foot one night whilst repairing a truck tyre on the Motorway. It was a clean break, so I finished the job and drove myself to the hospital for treatment. I’d only broken a couple of Tarsal’s, so no big deal whilst the adrenalin was kicking in. Treatment was a formality, but lasted until mid morning as we waited for consultancy, X-rays, referral, more consultancy, plastering, etc. UK hospitals are very inefficient you know. Anyway, their final ploy was to ask when the last time was I had an anti-tetanus jab. I said I didn’t really know, probably 12 years ago. I was then sent to have one, which they administered into the buttock of my other side. You may of course know this renders walking on that leg impossible for several hours. With my other leg now in a plaster cast, it left in a tad immobile. If they had chosen the other leg or an arm perhaps, maybe I would have been able to move. As it was I was told not to be so stupid about complaining and to leave immediately. By the time I had reached the main hospital doors the fresh plaster was already broken of course, but seeing as this was above the ankle I decided that I had witnessed enough human stupidity for one day, and then drove home. Those were the days!

Back in China things are generally a lot more logical, and their medical treatments are certainly no exception. No sooner had I refilled Nonni’s water than another nurse in all white came asking for me by name in Mandarin – see I can be ambilingual. She was the treatment specialist, and off we went into her room. From her physique I could tell she was not of local origin, bourn out by the fact she only spoke Mandarin. However, she did appear to understand simple Cantonese, so we got on fine. She washed out my eyes and then did so again. I can’t fault her skills and she was very pleasant with it.

Siu Ying was up next, and as soon as she disappeared Nonni started playing up. She usually cries when she is not being physically held by her mother, something that is weary on both of us. That said, we have our Father-Daughter times, one being early mornings when she is happy to be with me for hours of play whilst her mother sleeps. Another is when we are both tired or in bed, and have developed our own routines of secret touches and nearness. So I end-up carting Nonni off to watch her mother being treated, and then she is fine.

Normally Chinese IV takes between 20 minutes and half an hour, but this one is headed for the full hour. Don’t get me wrong, I think this method is far more effective than simply pumping a load of stuff into some unsuspecting muscle. However, boredom gets the better of me so I head outside for a cigarette. I take the back exit and find myself opposite the other local hospital. I wander around for nothing better to do, and returning am soon approached by the wife of the local hair salon we use. She tries to inveigle me in for a massage, and whilst this is very tempting, I decline as my family need my support at this time – and also I wonder if she may catch whatever it is that’s about to inflict me!

Returning I find we are about done here, so the nurse hands us our medicines for home use, we say our thanks and are soon on our way. Siu Ying puts on her sunglasses and states I should go home whilst she will go to the wet market next door for supplies. I say I will go with her, as I want to buy mushrooms to make my version of Chinese Tangy mushroom soup. She is horrified, stating people will see my eyes! This is a ‘no-no’ apparently, so of I go home alone. I look in the mirror after my return, and must admit that I do look a little like a red-eyed monster. Ho-hum!

Whatever this disease it, it is quite nasty regards daily life. It is not life-threatening and won’t do any permanent damage to eyes etc. It begins with soreness and itching, which becomes intense. I can liken it to having eyes full of sty’s, before feeling like they are being bathed in sharp sand. It is very uncomfortable! This lasts for exactly 48 hours for all of us – quite amazing! Then the eye problem and related swelling disappear, whilst we have a minor head cold and slight symptoms of fever shared between us all. In all the disease takes 5-days to run its course, I am pretty sure there is an extra 2-days incubation period. This is all detailed on a page in my Health Section, which offers practicable advice to anyone who contracts this mellifluence. You can find it here:

http://www.china-expats.com/Health_CnEyeFlu.htm

Siu Ying returns home from the market with a couple of bunches of things that look like vine leaves. I have had these before as a soup which was simmered for 10 minutes. This time she adds a lot more water than normal, and cooks the leaves for over an hour. We imbibe the resultant fluid that seems to help. It is actually very tasty and one of my favourite soups.

I have had to stop using the computer, and have taken to smoking outside as the astringent properties of cigarette smoke only exacerbate the itching. Even watching television can be a problem, so we all slumber for most of the next 36 hours. The next day Siu Ying goes out, complete with sun glasses of course. She returns with bags of twigs and berries that I want to photograph, but leave till later. She dumps these into our jam-kettle and soon cooks up a goo that looks something like what you would expect to find in a brackish puddle along some forest trail just after it has been raining heavily. I am given a pint of the brown stuff to drink, and am delighted to discover it tastes just like real liquorice, only sweeter. – You know the twigs of the aniseed plant as used to be sold in sweet shops ‘When I were a Staffordshire lad’. They’re probably banned now by Brussels for health and safety reasons, or because the twigs are the wrong shape?

Ahha! I must write about being a Staffordshire lad sometime. There are certain linguistic gems that I worry will be lost to the modern world. “Thee dost’ner dost thee?” from “Up-‘onley”; and their equal cousins from Dudley and Great Worley “Costner thee grob em rot”. Staffordshire is a very unusual County, and whilst I was born in the County Town of Stafford, notable for not having a discernable accent of any sort; this is surrounded my many very strong dialects all within the same old county boundaries. In ancient times this was the melting pot where all invaders tarried and Stafford itself and to this day – is full of people who were passing through, but stayed a while. Most of the British people I meet in Foshan are actually either from Stafford or Staffordshire; and I find that very strange. This is compounded by the fact that we all really like Foshan City enough to choose to live there (Given a free choice).

Back home in Toisan I find one of the excellent side-effects from Siu Ying’s home-made ‘brackish pond water with woodland attributes’ comes in the form of an excess of flatulence – something both boys and babies adore apparently. Unfortunately my wife is less impressed – but that’s girls for you! My mind wanders, and then wonders what would be the effective and combined output if I were to have baked beans and capsicums for dinner tonight? But upon reflection, I do love my wife so refrain … this time. As the effects wear off I recommence teaching my daughter how to blow raspberries instead, something that has her in fits and giggles. Her mother hides her mirth under a sever frown. Then she delights in expounding upon the fact she now has two children to look after. Suitably chastened I immediately set about mollifying her and my hard work soon provender’s results … well, up until the point I involuntarily let off a total ‘Aussie ripper’, and running for cover manage to avoid most missiles immediately hurled in my direction. Rhiannon loves this game and wants more, whilst I really didn’t know it was coming. Honest!

However, all our eyes are seriously suffering and this brief humour only serves to dampen our discomfiture for a few moments. I write this two days after these events, by which time things are still not right, but a lot less problematic. Rhiannon is now clear, whilst Siu Ying has a minor chest infection, but her eyes are fine. I am suffering a cold as the infestations come out, but at least I can now see again with certainty and the great relief from itchy eyeballs.

If you ever contract this disease then please take immediate action – it really is a most evil and debilitating infection.

Time I wrapped this missive up and let you get back to more profitable pursuits. My next in the general series of missives should be the long awaited ‘Toisan Times’, which got put on the back-burner for a while. I have also made great insights and writings concerning my political discourse, which is nothing remotely as you would imagine – even those of you who know me very well. My autobiography is still a work in progress, as attested by taking out the ‘Boys and Motorbikes’ missive as a stand-alone. I am thinking of writing it all in this fashion - as diverse and subjective chapters, linked by a common theme or commentary.

We look forward to Denis and his description of a hospital stay in China + more from Jim and Dawn. If you ever wanted to write a book but thought it too monstrous a proposition, then why not simply write a small piece about your daily life or interests, and let us publish it for you on the web.

Best wishes

Jonno