I’ve just removed Cǎoméi’s stitches from her face to avoid
having to go back to the Children’s Hospital where they were put in.
Here’s the story.
A week ago, she was leaping from her closet onto her bed but
her foot slipped and she landed short, splitting the side of her face by her
eye. It wasn’t large but it was obvious she needed stitches. We’d
only been here a few days, I have no Chinese phone, there is no phone in the
apartment, my email was not working, Baba was at work and I was in a tad bit of
a panic. Luckily, I remembered seeing that there is a clinic on site so
grabbed the kids and away we ran. On the way there, we ran into the same
woman we’d met twice already that day while riding the elevator. She’s
English and speaks a little Mandarin, she saw the blood on Cǎoméi and me and
immediately offered to help. She went with us to the clinic and we were
told that Cǎoméi needed to go get stitches at the Children’s Hospital.
The nurse wrote down the Hospital name in Chinese for the
taxi driver and we went to the street to flag one down. There was a taxi
waiting for hire right across the street but the driver was relieving himself
behind a bush so we opted to wait for the next cab. We arrived at what
appeared to be a filthy train station in NY. We were “adopted” by a registration
attendant who walked us through everything. Then a man dressed in
security uniform took over for her and took me everywhere when needed.
First, he took me to the cashier/admissions to pay for Cǎoméi’s hospital ID
card. RMB 14.00 ($2.30).
 |
| Doctor's Desk |
The walls were filthy, holes in them, and the room where we
sat with the doctor had an old wooden desk painted an odd peach many years ago,
chipped and dirty. The purple sink desperately needed cleaning, latex
gloves that didn’t make it into the garbage can were lying on the floor.
The boys sat on the 1960’s exam table while Cǎoméi huddled by me and the doctor
and I talked. (I established that he was the doctor as he looked so young
– what does that say about me?) He used his copy iPhone to translate
words.
 |
| Nurse's Station |
We had to pay cash up front for the visit and
stitches. (“Phew, I’ve got my Marriott Rewards credit card,” I
thought. I couldn’t help thinking that this bill would glean us mucho
bonus points and a few free nights in Thailand!) The guard took me down a
few halls again to the cashier window to pay for the stitches. I
was preparing to take out my Marriott rewards VISA card when I did a
double-take at the total. RMB 126.00 ($21.00)
I am in shock. I pay cash and we head back to
Cǎoméi. After further discussion, I say I want Cǎoméi to have local
anesthesia. The doctor says I will have to pay. Fine. The
guard takes me back to the cashier but now there is a large queue of
people. He walks right to the front of the line. I hold back
embarrassed. A woman engages in challenging him for cutting in line but
he must have explained my daughter’s circumstances. She is quiet and I am
waiting to pay the huge anesthesia bill. I kept the VISA tucked in my
wallet but I am pulling out 100 RMB bills. I am told the price and I
stop. What??? I look at the register which reads, 0.40 RMB.
My mouth gaped open and I questioned the amount. Yes, that was the price
that I had to pay. Total, not even $0.07!!! For that he cut me to
the front of the line in front of everyone else? There’s no time to feel
embarrassed, I pay and we head back to Cǎoméi.
 |
| Nurse and Doctor |
Cǎoméi was super during the procedure. The nurse
(without gloves) pushed gauze into her wound to clean it and then yellow
sponge-like things in to sterilize it? The “Procedure Room” looked as
though it came out of a M*A*S*H set. Unbelievable. I grabbed Yu Gege’s
iPod Touch to take a few pics before the stitches began. I talked to
Cǎoméi and held her as she lay on the gurney. She never flinched as the
anesthesia was injected into her wound in 4 places and then 3 stitches were put
in. I prayed for the guidance of this doctor’s hands, as you can
imagine. It came out perfectly! She was so good. They praised her
and smiled and, rather than go back, I took out her stitches tonight.
Heck. I’ve seen my Dad do it enough and I’ve had enough removed from
me.
So, that’s our fun (and lengthy) experience with a real
Chinese hospital. People have since said we should have gone to an ex-pat
hospital, and I think for something more serious, I would agree. But this
gave us a unique experience that we won’t forget. And I really know that
God helped out when we needed it most. Phew!
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