In Training: Hospital Hubby Part III

OR Kath's in depth experience with the NHS, followed by more parts that eventually lead up to Royal's thoughts on the two health care systems!!
I know it's been ages since I said I would post this 3rd part! I do apologize, but for some reason it's been difficult for me to tackle.* I'm not an expert on health care. I wasn't before I dealt with the NHS and after dealing with them I'm still not! I can only tell my story. My husband can only tell his story. Everybody else can think what they want of it all.

I've never had difficulty with our U.S. health care system. It has never let me down. I've always been able to afford insurance - not always the insurance I would like to have, but insurance of some kind. I've always been able to pay my medical bills - not always at one time, but they have always worked with me on payment plans when needed. I've had a job since I was 15 years old. I've never been without work - I've worked 12 hour shifts at a snow cone stand, I've popped popcorn and cleaned the floors at a cinema, been an assistant to a director at a fancy hotel, membership director at a Chamber of Commerce, in internet sales at a gun store, wholesale admin at a soda manufacturing plant and as of right now I handle customer relations at a vehicle dealership. Not all have been fun. All have been hard work.

In 2007 I married my Royal Marine Commando Sniper and moved to Britain. We knew he was deploying in April so we hurried to get everything in order. I applied, interviewed and received my National Insurance Numbercard. I was working and paying my British taxes, including health. He left as planned.

I missed him and I missed my family but everything was going okay. Then I got a strange pain in my abdomen. I have a history of ovarian cysts rupturing and putting me on my ass with 15-25 minutes of gasping for breath through the pain (those little bastards, excuse my French). I've been told by my family doctor and my obgyn that many women have symptoms before a cyst bursts, but I've never experienced that. So I thought, hmmm maybe something really terrible is about to happen. I don't have family around to rescue me like in the past. Better get to the doc's.

Where I was in Britain they ask that you register with a doctor before you can see a doctor. I made an appointment to register. (Link will take you to the post I wrote after this happened originally. I will be giving you a lot more detail in this post. Just so you know). It was a mid-morning appointment. Registration is pretty simple. Some paperwork, medical history, a urine test, yada yada. I mentioned my pain to the nurse so she decided to give me a pregnancy test. It was negative. After speaking for a few more minutes she mentioned that maybe I should take another test.

Then she hesitated. She said she wasn't sure if she should give me another one because ... it is expensive. Yes, she said that to me -- well, more to herself than me really. At the time I was a little freaked and totally out of my element as far as how things are dealt with in Britain, or I might have let her know that I'd be happy to walk down to the nearest chemists and purchase a pee-on-a-stick myself (which I wouldn't have even done anyway because she was nice and I'm nice. But still). After a few more seconds of silence she decided to do it anyway. I took another one and it was negative as well. The nurse suggested that I make an appointment to see the GP. I thanked her and headed to the front desk to make an appointment.

To my surprise I found out that they only allow appointments to be made when they first open in the morning - 8:00am. Remember, this was only mid-morning. I left the office thinking that I would have to wake up early (early for me, I didn't have to be into work everyday until 11:00am) to make a phone call. That's cool, different country and all... except for the weird pain. When I got back to work the WONDERFUL ladies that I worked with told me to shortcut the system by calling back and telling them I was in too much pain to wait. Could I please come down there until they could squeeze me in? Affirmative.

I probably waited less than 45 minutes to get in. The doctor called my name and I followed her to her office. It was like being in her house, that's the only way to explain it. Shelves with books and stuffed animals, a comfy chair in the corner, fun pictures on the walls. The walls had wallpaper instead of paint! She listened to what I had to say, then informed me that it might be either a cyst, appendicitis, or an ectopic pregnancy. She said she was pretty sure it wasn't appendicitis. She let me know that she would be setting me up to go to the hospital to have it checked out and that I would probably have to stay overnight. The hospital she wanted to send me to is 45 minutes away. I later found out there is one 15 minutes away (because hey, I stayed there, too) but it would not have worked for me at this point because it had no emergency services.

Here is where I really freaked. As most military spouses know, when the spouse leaves all hell breaks loose. Let's just say this was not the first thing to go wrong. I had a puppy at home and though I found driving in Britain to be fairly easy I was not prepared to drive 45ish miles to an unknown area. Luckily my co-workers stepped in again and one left with me to pick me up from my house and drive me to the hospital! I'll never forget it. The hospital was pretty normal, a little old - meaning the paint was cracking all over and the floors were stained, things like that. I remember the chairs as being cold and metal, but they were probably cold and plastic. Even though I seemed to be the only one waiting it took about 35-45 minutes for them to call me back.

Someone took my blood pressure and temperature and asked me what was wrong. I filled out more paperwork and then I was asked to go back out to the waiting room and wait. There was someone else out waiting when I got back. This time I waited about 40-50 minutes (at least) before I was called back again. They took a urine sample and put me in a room. It was sort of sea foam green, but faded. Then someone took some blood. Then the doctor came in. I will also never forget her green shirt (sort of olive green) black skirt and shiny black knee high boots. No doctor coat, but she did have a stethoscope around her neck. To be honest, at the time I thought it was kinda cool. She didn't seem much older than me.

The doctor took some medical history and then left, saying she'd be back to finish in a little while. Probably another 20 minutes passed - ballpark as I don't wear a watch. She finished my history and felt my stomach. Here is what kills me when I think back on it: Doc told me it wasn't appendicitis because the pain wasn't right (yay!). It wasn't an ectopic pregnancy because I wasn't pregnant! My GP had two negative pregnancy tests and a urine sample that would have confirmed I wasn't pregnant, therefore I couldn't have an ectopic pregnancy. SHE STILL told me I might have a freakin' BABY growing somewhere inside me where it shouldn't be. Any kid off the street can go to Wikipedia - Ectopic Pregnancy and see that you have to BE PREGNANT to have this happen.

I understand that some women will take a pregnancy test and come up with a false negative. I feel that my doctor - after at least two tests and a urine sample - should have shared with me that at that point an ectopic pregnancy was highly unlikely. I waited HOURS that day to find out that I wasn't about to lose our first child. Maybe that's dramatic considering I've told you I have a history of cysts - but I also shared with you that I never once had advanced warning or any discomfort with a cyst.

Anyway, more waiting. In the meantime a nice guy came in to take my blood pressure and temp again. He told me that I'd be seeing the doctor shortly. I told him I'd already seen her, which surprised him. He bounced back quickly though with a "Oh, you're the one waiting for blood!"

The doc came back and informed me that it could be a cyst but that she couldn't order a scan. If I would like to be admitted (which she didn't feel was necessary) I might be able to get a scan the next day. Or I could come back the next day for a scan, which was a big no because I wasn't driving all the way back there and I sure wasn't going to have my dear friend miss work again! OR if I would like she would order a scan at a hospital closer to my home, but it would be a week or so. Really, she was just letting me know my options as we were waiting on my blood work.

A little while later they kicked me out of the room - I wasn't really using it - and I waited with my friend on chairs in the hallway. It had been dark for a few hours by this time. The blood results came back and everything was fine so I chose to go home. With a cyst, in my experience, the immediate and super intense pain only lasts 10-20 minutes and is followed by a dull and uncomfortable pain and nausea for a few hours. Even if the hospital were 5 minutes away, there really isn't much to be done for the immediate pain.

I didn't enter my house until 9:45 that night.

That was my first experience with the NHS. How was I to know that more, much more, was to come.

* 2007 was an emotional year for me. My posts from 2007 (and there aren't that many due to being sick) do not contain much detail. When I sat down to write... I didn't want to think about being sick. And I was tired. I was miserable for a while because of the type of sickness I had - one major symptom was depression. It's been over a year so I feel like I can share now. And trust me, I do remember.

Part I is here.

Comments

It was a really terrible time for you - and so far away from your family.

Posted by: Pat | May 29, 2009 at 02:27 AM

They say what doesn't kill you... only makes you stronger. In this case, it's true! I learned I could take care of myself. I learned that I need to be more self assured - more assertive where health care is concerned. I learned that there are so many wonderful people out there ready to help!
That includes you, Pat!
It was a bad time, but now two years later I can say it wasn't a bad thing.

Posted by: Kath | June 02, 2009 at 11:05 AM