Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Literally.

This morning, NZ and his mama left to Lingshan to see the big Buddha. Sal and I opted to stay home, since he is fighting a cold, and we have a big week ahead. As we usually do most mornings, we headed to my bedroom to make the bed. I had all the pillows on the bed, except for one big bolster pillow that Sal was playing with.

A pillow? For a toy? Nice choice son. Totally harmless.

Whack! (Followed by cries)

I walked over to give him some love (he falls a lot more with all this walking business), and that's when I saw it.

Blood.

I'm no stranger to lacerations, having worked for a plastic surgeon. I'm accustomed to frantic calls, and the advice my boss would give about applying pressure. I went into action, holding my screaming child, talking in a calm voice and strategically cradling his gashed eye with a clean towel to keep the pressure. I held it a few minutes, then slowly peeled it back, and I could see that it was pretty deep.

I said to myself, "Shiiiiiiiiiiit. It does need stitches."

I reluctantly called NZ who promptly had the driver turn around and head back home. NZ called his assistant who translates for us ( she's awesome), and she agreed to meet us at the Hospital. NZ and his mom got back here, we loaded up Sal and headed to the hospital.

He got checked in, then taken to a room where we were told he needed 3-4 sutures. The doctor said he didn't need novacaine because novacaine hurts. What the???! Are you effing kidding me? This is a BABY. Not a man. A little baby that is going to flip the eff out anyways, so why not just inject the novacaine, so the multiple suturing that needs to be done is pain free?

After some insistence, NZ got his way with the surgeon who agreed to proceed with novacaine. We were instructed to put him on the gurney, head pointed toward the surgeon.

Okay, but what about that hair on the gurney? This is supposed to be a sanitary procedure. Pretty sure that someone else's stray hair is not sanitary. I pulled out a brand new disposable changing pad and we laid that under Sal.

We both agreed that NZ was better suited to restrain the boy so he straddled the gurney and was able to keep Sal's arms down and neck stable. Apparently, this wasn't going to work for the surgeon....we got the, "in china....." talk, and were told that NZ must stand at Sal's head, me hold his arms down and the translator hold his legs. I'm sorry, but three adults to restrain one child is overboard.

Sal flipped the eff out (did I call it or what?)

In went the novacaine.

And without hesitation, or ANY amount of waiting for the novacaine to set in, the surgeon went to town suturing. My heart still cringes at the thought of her piercing that skin before he was numb. Once the novacaine set in, the last two sutures were cake. He calmed down a bit, and before we knew it, it was over.

Or so we thought.

..and then came....." in china......".

In china, lacerations are not released from hospital without first having a tetanus shot. No matter whether your child is up to date on their DTAP immunizations. So, we agreed it was probably a good idea. We went, paid for the tetanus, then took the fapiao (receipt) to the pharmacy dept, who gave us the medicine, which we then took to an injection room.

In that communal injection room, we then learn that they won't give Sal his tetanus shot until they do a "test" on his wrist. The test is another injection of a little medicine under his skin, then a thirty minute wait to see if the bubble goes away.

Sound familiar?

Yeah- a TB test. Wtf?!

At this point we just want out of there. Due to translation difficulties, we didn't know it was a TB test until she was administering it and I realized that she wasn't trying the tetanus on him, but instead doing a TB test! NZ and I were boiling at this point. It's not enough to just say "in china we do this and it is good". I need the who's, what's, why's and when's answered. In this instance, we couldn't leave until he had the tetanus shot, so what's done is done. Thirty minutes later, we took him in, no bubble on the wrist, so the nurse gave him a tetanus shot. Then.....again, "wait for thirty minutes and come back."

It was a long, long morning of waiting.

Poor kid.

If there is one thing I can say, he proved his toughness today. Stitches sans novacaine, having two injections on top of that, and then flashing us a big smile when all was said and done.

Sometimes I think its harder on us as parents then it is on the little guys. I think that as Sal's parents, we dealt with our first "emergency" quite calmly, cooley and collectively......especially for dealing with it in a foreign country knowing very little mandarin. We are so far our of our comfort zone it's not even funny...but we're doing it. The world hasn't ended just because things are not "the same" as we expect them to be. Our son got medical care, although marginal quality at best, and we are back home safe and sound.

Now if you'll excuse me, I will be padding every single straight edge in the house.

Pinkeye

Need I say anymore?

Not me. The boy.

And no, nobody farted on his pillow.

I suppose it's just a side effect of having playgroup with many kids-either that or he went down the slide after a kid wearing split pants (i joke, i joke). So, if anyone needs me, I will be sanitizing the shit out of everything washable for the next few days. Antibiotic drops will be started tonight, and I hope NZ and I can keep from getting it too!

Update: a visit to the hospital

So, it happened.

We sucked it up and went to a local hospital with the assistance of NZ's assistant.

She arranged for us to see a pediatrician, "very professional", who was "fluent" in English at the VIP section of Wuxi People's Hospital. VIP is a service aimed to bring more expats into the local hospitals. Basically, we paid more to be able to access a physician with a set appointment time, and a clean room instead of waiting in the lobby with the masses. Had we just gone with everyone else, our registration fee would have been 10rmb ($1.50 usd). Registration for VIP was 15 times that fee.

It was worth it.

So here's how it went down. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected.

Foreign? Yes.

The stuff nightmares are made of? Not at all.

We entered the hospital's VIP floor and were greeted by a receptionist. We were the only patients there. She had us fill out a booklet with Sal's name and date of birth, as well as our address (NZ's assistant helped by writing in characters for all but Sal's name). We were then given a plastic card, much like a credit card and told that it holds Sal's electronic medical record. I was told to keep it safe and bring it to every appointment so that they can access his records. I was also given the booklet and told to pay the registration fee. After we did that, we had to sit and wait. For the first few minutes it was just the four of us. But then a janitor came and sat near us in the waiting room. He starts to tell NZ's assistant that its time for us to go see the pediatrician.

We follow her to an exam room, which I have to admit, was much cleaner than I had expected. They even had disposable paper over the exam table. Can't say the same for the expat clinic we usually patronize.

Here's where I got a little bummed. I fully expected a fluent English speaking physician. Instead, we got a handful of elementary English words, and were forced to rely on NZ's assistant for translation. The problem here, although I appreciate the translation, is that I like to hear the words from the Doctor myself. Sal was then examined, and his breathing assessed. The pediatrician asked for his booklet and card so I handed it over and she scribbled away.

NZ and I kept asking, " What is wrong with him?"  And we got, "Your baby is sick."

"Ah, yeah-we know. What's wrong with him?"

"She say he need breathing treatment."

"But what's the diagnosis?!" I wish my writing could convey my blood boiling, because it definitely was !

"They give him medicine for cough."

"But what's the diagnosis?"

Finally, "Your baby have infection and need medicine to help breathe."

So yeah, as my husband had suspected, Sal had a little lung infection going on.

In a country like this, lung infections can kill people. I mean, they can kill people anywhere, but there are diseases here that we don't deal with in the states. With all the people getting up in his grill on a day to day basis, it gets scary as a mom to think that I so sweetly gestured for people to stop touching his face instead of slapping their hands away. I immediately felt guilty for him being sick. I try to be nice to the curious kids and people, and HATE that they touch him, but I also try to be nice about telling them to let go of his hands and to stop touching his face. From here on out, my mama bear instinct will be going and they may or may not get a quick slap to the hand as a "get your mitts off my kid".

 

Anyways, that janitor I was telling you about? He met us outside the exam room. He took the booklet and the card to the registration desk and again, we were asked for money. 124.30 rmb later, we were told to follow him to the main hospital. We walked down a dark corridor, through some doors, and then hopped in an elevator. On the main floor of the hospital, the janitor pointed to a board that had "Salvatore" written in neon lights. He walked up to the teller window that was under that board, and received our meds. We then followed him up an escalator to a room full of people. We got in line as he pushed his way to the desk. He turned around with an oxygen mask for our son and handed a nurse the bag of medicines he had picked up at the counter downstairs.

He then motioned for us to follow him to the room adjacent.

Whoa. Just whoa.

This was a communal breathing treatment room. There were stations set up for the treatments, with benches facing each machine. We were to select an open bench and sit there as they hooked Sals mask and medicine into the machine. Thankfully NZ's assistant found one in the rear corner away from the curious neighbors. We were quite the spectacle being the only white people in a Chinese hospital. We got hooked up and wrestled a bag of angry snakes (Sal was one unhappy boy) until the treatment was complete.

As we finished treating him, the nurse came back and gave us his mask. We were advised to take it home and sterilize it and bring it back Thursday for another treatment. Yes, that's right, WE are responsible for sterilizing equipment. I'm not sure that would be P.C. in the states.

We were also given a Baggie with Sals booklet and card, as well as two medications...instructions in mandarin. Again, we had to rely on the assistant to translate dosing instructions and tell us what the medications were. Thankfully, one of the medicines said Pfizer Zithromax in English, and it was at that point we realized the doctor had prescribed our son an antibiotic for the first time. There was no conversation about that when we were in consultation. Anyways, we went with it and I knew I could email one of my friends who is a pharmacist about the indications for such an antibiotic, which is exactly what I did when we got home. The other med was for "cough", essentially a cough syrup bronchodilator. Again, I had to do research once we got home to make sure we weren't going to kill our son with the translated dosing.

I realize I probably sound like a whining brat, and that we "signed up for this", which is absolutely true. We did. But what I didn't think about, are things like this- you know, things like my lack of mandarin potentially putting my son in harms way. We are left to trust other people here like we've never had to trust before. I question everything these days because often times the source of our information is provided via translation. This can be very scary at times, and make me feel helpless. In America, its common to question things in order to get an accurate definition/description. We had to push to get an official "diagnosis" because hearing "your baby is sick" was simply not good enough.

But this is...life in China.

It's not terrible, its just different.


So glad our experience was not awful. Would I have preferred to see the expat pediatrician in the expat facility?

Absolutely.

But did we learn something more about what's available to us in our very own backyard? Did we take a step towards acclimating to our new home?

We certainly did.

Here's to hoping the breathing treatments and antibiotics work!

Growing pains

I'm going to come right on out and say it.

I'm going through some growing pains here in China. I think the real term for it, according to the stages of culture shock is "adjustment", but my oh my has this past week given me a lesson in patience.

Me, myself, I'm doing fine. As an adult, I can handle wrenches thrown in the works. But as a mother trying to provide the best for her son, I am finding that the "best" here is subpar to my expectations. Especially in terms of health care availability and quality (and we have the best expat coverage for a western run clinic).

It all started last week when I had made an appointment for my son to have an immunization and bloodtest to check for lead. I received an email the night prior from our sweet Belgian GP (gen practitioner) apologizing "that due to a new government database in Shanghai", she "is not able to bring immunizations to the Wuxi satellite clinic at this time." This means that for immunizations, we must now take a four hour round trip drive to the main expat hospital Shanghai. It will now take all day to go see the Doctor as opposed to one hour here in Wuxi.

The part that floors me is that we don't live in some off the beaten path village. We live in one of the wealthier Chinese cities!

Okay, so immunizations aside, and trying to cope with the idea of trekking to Shanghai just for shots, Sal also had to have a blood draw. I took him to our local expat clinic and there were three Chinese nurses holding him down, tying tourniquets on both arms. They couldn't find a vein in his little arms, so I kept suggesting they draw from his foot. Well, my good sport of a little boy (he doesn't even cry during shots), freaked the fuck out and screamed his heart out after about ten minutes of them tightening tourniquets, tapping his arms and holding him down. Finally, I ripped his sock off, pointed at his foot and said, "Please. Try his foot." Sure enough, he had a nice ripe vein there ready for sticking. 30 seconds later, it was all done with. I felt helpless for my son. I couldn't help but compare the level of knowledge to that of a phlebotomist in the states. Maybe my panties are in a bunch because I saw my son truly terrified for the first time in his life...but I've had my share of blood draws as an adult, and have never seen such a circus act.

Anyways, fast forward to today.

Sal has had a virus and has a wheezy cough. He was checked last week by our GP here in Wuxi, who said she couldn't hear anything. Both NZ and I would like a second opinion now that its been a week and he sounds worse. So, I decided we would kill two birds with one stone and take a trip to Shanghai to see a pediatrician at the Shanghai clinic since our GP is on holiday. I called to make an appointment today, for tomorrow ( so my driver can be given notice), and was told that if my son was sick, I would need to call back at 5p to make an appointment to see a pediatrician tomorrow.?!?! I explained our situation, and that I live in Wuxi, a 2 hour drive-and the fact that I require the services of a driver of hitch I would need to arrange with more notice. The receptionist puts me on hold. She comes back on the line and says, " I am sorry, but your son can not see a pediatrician tomorrow because he would be a new patient and we don't have the time."

I understand. I worked for a Doctor myself.

I get it.

Me: "Okay, then how about Wednesday, Thursday or Friday?"

Receptionist: " you would need to call back at 5p each day before to see if the pediatrician has time the next day."

Me: "if he requires 40 minutes for a new patient, wouldn't he be more likely to have forty minutes on Friday available now, then if I were to call on Thursday at 5p?"

Receptionist: "Yes, ma'am, but I can not make your son a sick appointment for Friday. You would need to call the day before you want your son seen. It is our policy."

I get it that they have a policy, but what I don't get, is how I will be able to have my son's cough assessed by a pediatrician?

The receptionist continues that if I want my son seen, she can make an appointment for any day this week to see a GP. So, yes, he can be seen, but not by a pediatrician. Although we are happy with our GP here in Wuxi, we would really like to have Sal see a pediatrician for this cough. I miss our ped visits back home, where the staff was nice, the physicians gave us lists of what to expect, and were on call for our questions. We never had to wait a day to see them if Sal was sick, and for me, as a parent, having access to quality, thorough medical care is of the upmost importance.

I won't lie. I had a little breakdown after my phone call which ended with no appointment being made. It pains me to have to jump through so many hoops to try and just make a simple pediatrician appointment.

But, I do realize that in time, this sort of stuff will bug me less, and just become our normal. It is what it is. We do have other options. I can take Sal to the local women's and children's Chinese hospital with the assistance of Nick's Chinese assistant. She takes her baby there, and would assist us with translation. My issue with the local hospitals is the lack-of-sanitary-ness and traditional Chinese medicine vs. western medicine methodologies. Just last Saturday, on one of our walks, NZ and I passed by a puddle of blood in the local hospital parking lot. I couldn't even tell you the last time I saw a puddle of blood anywhere, let alone a hospital parking lot. It's probably still there today. But, if his cough gets worse, we may find ourselves checking in to the VIP floor of the children's hospital just to see a pediatrician.

To end this post, let me just tell my fellow American readers, we've got it good back home. Don't take it for granted.