DIY Health Care

Last month, for the second time since moving to China, I got a call from the kids' school informing me that Caleb had hit his head and probably needed a trip to the emergency room.  The first time they called he had hit a header on a soccer ball too close to a chain link fence and collided with the fence.  He bled and bled, it was a head wound after all, and needed a staple to close the gash.  This time, he stood up under an open cabinet and caught the corner with his forehead.  Again, lots of blood.

I've lived outside the US for several years now, and health care varies.  In major cities you can always find highly trained doctors who inspire confidence, usually speak English (very impressive and appreciated), and clearly know what they're doing.  But, there just isn't the same level of cleanliness that I am used to in America, and that makes me nervous.  When nurses touch open wounds without gloves or even any evidence of having washed their hands, my whole body cringes.  Of course, we say something, we demand gloves and instruments that come out of sealed packages while we watch.  We make them change the bedding and ask repeatedly for everyone to wash their hands.  I'm sure they hate us.  But, the last thing I need is for one of us to contract some sort of random disease or even a staph infection because we didn't speak up. The whole attitude towards disinfection is just a little too cavalier for my tastes so the prospect of going to the hospital is always unsettling.

That said, the folks at Beijing United Hospital are very friendly and courteous.  We have never waited more than a few minutes and our latest visit wasn't even that long.  Caleb was already in the system so we didn't even have to do paperwork.  In fact, the same doctor was on call and he remembered giving Caleb his first set of staples.

Now, I don't know first hand, but apparently, getting staples in one's head hurts. A LOT! Before I even arrived at the school to pick him up, Caleb was already panicking about getting staples, again. I told him it was possible he wouldn't need staples and that no matter what happened, I would be there the whole time to hold his hand.

Turns out he was right, he needed staples and not just one, two this time. The doctor had initially said one would be sufficient and then when he put in the first staple, decided a second was called for.  I'm not sure if Caleb was more angry over the pain or about being lied to.  Either way, he was none too thrilled.  But, then it was over and he got a piece of cake for his pains and was all smiles again by the time I dropped him back at school...of course I took him back, it was only a couple of staples and he had a piano lesson that afternoon!

2 staples, ouch!

All done and ready to be discharged.  With that net on his head he reminds me of an asian pear.

As the doctor was explaining Caleb's post-staple care, he indicated we needed to return to the hospital the following week to get the staples removed.  Oops.  Big problem with that, we were going to be in Burma the following week.  And, if he didn't get the staples out he couldn't swim.  Ugh, another problem.  For 5 days of our trip we were scheduled to be enjoying the sand and surf in a beach front cottage.  We planned to do A LOT of swimming.  Caleb was devastated, as was I.  But, the doctor was wholly unconcerned.  He said something to one of the nurses who stepped outside for a moment and then returned with this:

What is this, you ask?  Well, it's a staple remover, of course.  He handed it to me and told me to take Caleb to a clinic in Rangoon and ask someone (he wasn't really concerned that it be a doctor) to remove the staples.  I must have looked skeptical at the prospect of taking my child into a medical facility in Rangoon.  Now, at this point, I had never been to Rangoon, but in retrospect, I'm pretty sure my skepticism was well-founded.  So the doctor said, "Actually, you could remove the staples yourself, but if the wound starts to bleed, you'll want someone around to help with that."  WHAT?  I can remove his staples myself?  Um, yeah, I don't think so.  That was not going to happen, though, I suppose if push had come to shove and the clinics in Rangoon were not going to work we could have Skyped one of our physician friends in the US to walk us through the procedure.  But, instead, on a friend's suggestion, we decided to call the medical unit at the US Embassy in Rangoon and ask them to take the staples out for us.

Me: Hello. My husband is posted to the US Embassy in Beijing, and we are coming to Burma on holiday.  My son has two staples in his head that he needs to have removed, could you do that for us? (Please say yes, please say yes, please don't make me go into a clinic in a just this side of developed country!)

US Embassy Rangoon: Sure. (They needed some information, of course, but dealing with them was a breeze!)

Me: Wonderful.  Is there anything else you need? (The obligatory phrase that means you're doing me a favor, a big one, and thank you just doesn't seem adequate.)

US Embassy Rangoon: Actually, I'm not sure we have the appropriate tool for removing staples, but we can probably track one down before you arrive.  (Seriously!?!?!)

Me: Oh, not to worry, I'll be bringing a tool with me. (Of course I am, doesn't everyone travel around with their own sterilized staple remover? No? Hm, surprising.)

US Embassy Rangoon: Um, okay, that works, see you on Friday. (I guess if my BYO staple remover is good enough for them, who am I to argue?)

And, on Friday, Kenny and Caleb went to the US Embassy in Burma, and in a matter of seconds the staples were out and minutes later they were on their way. Just another average day in the life of the expatriate.

Staples out and all smiles.  He was swimming fewer than 24 hours later.