A Trip to the Doctor

What I truly love about writing this blog is the opportunity to highlight the differences in our life here in Taiwan from that of our previous life in Ohio, especially the little things. The normal every day tasks that we never question, never ponder. 

Like going to the doctor.

Our introduction to the medical world here came upon us quickly. A few days after our arrival in July 2012, an injury to Carl's hand required a trip to the doctor. While preparing our house for the renters, a screw driver severely pierced the flesh of Carl's t hand. While painful, it didn't require any medical attention. 

Several weeks later, during our first typhoon, the injury, almost healed by this point, became infected. Swollen and sore, Carl braved torrential downpours and escalating winds to have it assessed. From an American stand point, the treatment was unconventional, but effective.

Since then, we all have had trips to the village doctor.

My most recent was again this morning, my third in the past week. During spring break, a cold that I had been fighting for weeks, won the war. It settled in my chest and, of course, I resisted going to the doctor. But eventually, I gave in.

Four of the nicest things about the village doctor is:

1. Walk in appointments 

2. He is just a short walk from our house.

3. He is open in the mornings, the afternoons, and the evenings!

4. He speaks English.

Upon arriving, the first stop is at the front desk.

Typically, the patient would sign in, but the staff has pity on us foreigners. Instead they just take our health card and ask for the $150 NT ($5 US) co-pay. Then the patient takes a seat in the no thrills waiting room.

I have never waited longer than 10 minutes to be seen by the doctor.

When a little bell rings and your name pops up on the screen, you know its your turn. The door on the left in the above picture is the doctor's office/examining room. The door is always open. No patient privacy act here!

If you hate sitting on the cold, uncomfortable examining tables of America, you would love it here. The Taiwanese doctor examines from his desk. The patient sits in a nondescript chair beside the doctor's desk. Wearing a surgical mask, the doctor listens and responds to your list of symptoms.

Typing and asking questions, he determines the diagnosis and appropriate treatment. In my last three visits, a check of my lungs was necessary. 

After the doctor removes the health card from the computer card reader, the patient returns to the waiting room. After a few minutes, the front desk gives the  medicines and explains when and how to use each. Typically, there is more than one. Today, I left with three.

Monday there were four.

And even more typically, there are only enough dosages for three days, especially if an antibiotic was prescribed. After the three days, the patient is to return and be reassessed. If the medicine appears to be working, another dosage is give. If the doctor is not satisfied, he prescribes another three days of a different medicine. Such is my case-- except I got four days worth since his office is closed on Sunday.

Did I mention that patients do not pay for the prescriptions? 

No thrills and no exuberant bills.

While Carl has had several doctor visits at  different hospitals as well as a late evening emergency room visit, I remain ignorant of health care practices and norms outside of my village doctor's office. And that's ok to me!