Last week I was down with low-grade fever and severe pains in my colon. Friday my favorite doctor came to town, so I went to her clinic for a consulta. The doctora quickly sent me to the city for an ultrasound. After studying the results (inconclusive, but indicating an intestinal infection of some sort and possible colon disease), she phoned me with several prescriptions and instructions to return for further testing in ten days.
This is the cool part about living in Mexico. Jim was able to walk into a pharmacy without any written prescription and buy all I needed. The other cool thing is that the doctor actually phoned me late on a Saturday afternoon to make sure I was feeling better. (I was.) She must have been concerned. Somehow I don't think this is protocol in the U.S. Then again, I probably would have had to return for another consultation, and up there it might have cost a tad more than the mere ten dollars (equivalent in pesos) I spent for the office visit here in our small town.
Lest you think I am biased against American doctors, that is not the case! To prove the point, I will tell you one of our favorite American doctor stories. Doctor Steve was our American neighbor/ physician in Guatemala who faced our friendly abuses of his proximity with a servant's heart and good humor.
One Saturday night after supper, the boys were horsing around as usual, and Christopher (age 6) impulsively whopped Timmy, the 4-year-old, on the head with a huge study pillow. Timmy, who didn't weigh that much more than the weapon, of course went flying, and bonked his chin on a very unyielding tile floor.
Since I was still pathologically squeamish of blood in those days, Jim did his best to patch it up, but thought it best to call Doctor Steve. Steve, who was all dressed to take his wife out to dinner, came right over, took a look, agreed it needed stitching, drove Jim and Timmy to the clinic, stitched him up and brought them home before his dinner date.
One week later, another Saturday night after supper, Jim was getting the boys out of the tub, when 2-year-old Mikey decided to act out the part of Goliath, marching to the beat of the Donut Man, singing, "Bump, bump, Go-LI-ath!" Marching in a slippery tub was not a good idea, and of course he slipped and hit his chin on the side of the tub, splitting it open (his chin, not the tub!).
Again, Jim called Doctor Steve. Again he stopped by the house. Again stitches at the clinic. But wait, that's not all!
A week later, another Saturday night, we got a call from our muchly abused off-duty doctor friend, asking us if anyone needed stitches. "I wanted to let you know that I'm just walking out the door to take my wife to dinner again. I know you have one more little boy, and hadn't heard from you...."
What a guy. If you read this, Steve, thanks again. We thank God for you and all the other truly good people He has used in our lives to bless us and show his care for our family.
They sure were cute at this age, weren't they? This photo was taken in Jocotan, not Guatemala City where we were living at the time.
4 comments:
Ok that is too funny that he called to see if you needed stitches before he went out! I imagine you have quite a few Dr/medical stories given the amount of kids ya'll have, esp. with all those boys together!!! Oh and in reference to the below post...I have seen Mexican coke advertised around here at taco stands and such. Also I will check Sams next time I am there and see if they have the Mexican coke.
haha... I love how you say "consultation" instead of "appointment." Just because it's "Consulto" in Spanish doesn't mean the English word changes.
oh and Chris definitely didn't hit me out of the blue, we were having a battle, and I was definitely losing. He had knocked me to my knees, and lest I suffer too long in shame of defeat, he made sure to finish me off quickly, with a nice downward thrust, which actually only managed to catch my chin on a crack in the tile. good times.
I didn't know the Doc's name was Steve, didn't we always call him Doctor Hammer? (I guess Steve would need a last name, eh?)
That is a great story. What a funny guy. And your children were adorable.
great stories! my grandma lives next door to our (used to be) family doctor, so we have a few of those stories to from when I was a kid, but I don't think he ever called to ask if he needed to stitch us up before a date like that, LOL! That is priceless! -TexasHeather, using Q's log-in
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