My Diary. Part 2. Drainage and patriotism.

obrenia (53)in #life • 7 years ago

Hello everyone!

I continue to publish my diary and the story of my illness. My thoughts, feelings and actions. I really hope that these lines will help someone.

Part 2

Mercy

The true spirit that reigns in the hospital is determined by the younger staff. In Assuta, humanity was evolved in the most unexpected places: the administrator who issued my hospitalization, the nurse, who took things in the waiting room, the nurse, whispering "good luck!" to my fading anesthetic consciousness. Salaries of low-skilled staff in Israeli hospitals are small and hardly depend on paid patients. Despite this, unfamiliar people cheered me up encouragingly, complimented, tried to cheer me up and calm me down. I was struck by this unexpected free humanity, because I was nurtured in the uncomfortable bosom of harsh Russian public health. Maybe this is because of the climate that influence on them?

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Happiness

True happiness is a reflected light. My mom enjoys Israel. No, she is very worried about me, but as soon as I was better, her completely childish pleasure from the new things, outweighed anxiety. Unusual food, strange flowers, the sea and, of course, Jerusalem. She can touch, sniff, try, and examines long and admiringly to those things that she can not touch. Impressions turn into emotions, emotions into memories. She is delighted, and her delight is my happiness.

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Drainage and patriotism

Yes! Yes! Yeah! The postoperative drainage was removed.
Three weeks with a tube in the armpit and rubber capacity on the stomach. Covering this construction with a hand, so as not to hurt it in the plane. Sleeping only on the left side or on the back. Parking in the garage in three turns, because turning the steering wheel quick is very uncomfortable. Wearing T-shirts three sizes larger and no visits to the places where it is necessary to remove the jacket. Human wisdom: if in a bad situation, make the situation worse then it is to the person and then return it to the original (bad) position, he will be happy.

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At the same time, I was convinced once again that a mixture of striking self-confidence and morbid self-esteem is found in our (Russian) hospitals depressingly often. And, judging by the stories of the girls, not only I was "lucky". To bring internationally recognized protocols from large clinics and insist on their implementation, to ask questions about my treatment and to say phrases like "I read about it" in the offices of Russian doctors should be cautious - it's dangerous. But it is doubly dangerous in a situation where a novelty (for a doctor), even the most insignificant, that the patient brought from abroad. To such a betrayal of Russian medicine, the most earnest of its followers respond with righteous anger. Blowing up their nostrils and proudly lifting their chin, they boldly rush forward, apparently, considering it humiliating to take a break and understand the question. In winter, I was almost injected by 3 ampoules of a glucocorticosteroid instead of the necessary 2/3 of one - the doctor decided not to understand the difference between the usual dexamethasone and the Israeli dexacorte forte. Then they explained to me, with a mockery, that setting a label in the course of preoperative chemotherapy is a deceit the patient for money, since a good surgeon still sees everything at the operation. And today, the surgeon tried to remove the drainage without opening the lid of the vacuum pear and pulled the tube attached to the tissues, while I crawled on the couch from the pain, with a sweat back. My timid "maybe we'll see on the Internet?" was rejected with indignation. After a 10-minute execution, which was held under the slogan "We also now how to do this", I left the office with a relieved at heart and with a bill of 5 thousand rubles, half of which was the cost of the initial consultation (I wonder which one), and the second half - the cost of bandage (plaster for calluses, glued on the wound at my own request).

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I read somewhere that Saltykov-Shchedrin was criticized in the absence of patriotism for criticizm in his works. I am,of course, not a genius writer, but I also fear that my modest thoughts, if they are sounded, can be misinterpreted. To avoid misunderstanding: I love Russia and I know how many good specialists we have. I'm aware of the poor equipment of hospitals, the meager salaries of medical staff and the crazy schedule of their work. I just think that self-confidence, stagnation, bribery and rejection of competition are bad for any cause, not excluding medicine.
Unfortunately, like the doctors themselves, I can not solve the systemic problems of Russian public health. I very much hope that the state will mobilize and at last begin to fulfill its duties. But until this happens, I propose to start with ourselves and do what is in our power. For example, it seems to me that the situation could become a little better if as many doctors as possible were studying English. This would give them access to the world medicine experience, and the world medicine - access to our doctors. Still it would be desirable, that corruption was less, and more knowledge and skills. Well and absolutely unreal - I want, that in all our hospitals charity has returned. I do not always meet it there.

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Let my desires come true, and then we, the patients, will respond with thanks and devotion. But for now, all that's left for our doctors is to remain jealous of patients for more financially successful competitors, and for patients - to pass on to each other the names of trusted doctors and the monthes to wait for their reception, incidentally sadly watching how free medicine hates commercial, commercial scorns free, and both hate foreign colleagues, hiding this hatred of reluctance to change something...

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