Having to go to the doctor while living in another country can be an intimidating experience, especially when you do not have a complete grasp of the language. It is hard not to make comparisons between countries when you go in with a preconceived notion of what is “normal”. I had an eventful weekend a couple weekends ago, but not to worry Mom I am fine. I was so amused by the entire experience I thought I would share.

I have… had a sub-dermal hormonal implant from the states that expired recently. I needed to get it removed, so I had my co-worker call the doctor and explain what it was that I was trying to make an appointment for. I thought this was the best way since I do not have the vocabulary to explain something so complex. After several questions and two phone calls I had an appointment. In America this is a simple in-office procedure, so I assumed that it would be similar, but I was wrong.

When I got to the doctor’s office he explained to me that this was my pre-surgery consultation and I would have to return the following day to have the “surgery” done. Needless to say, I was confused because my co-worker reassured me that everything was arranged and would be taken care of that day.

What happened instead was an appointment the following afternoon in the surgery department, a multiple page Chinese document detailing all the rules I need to follow, and a body diagram with a hand drawn location of where on my arm the surgery was going to occur. I was bounced around from one nurse to the other all telling me the same rules, no food or water after midnight, no makeup, no contacts, no jewelry. Just in case I did not understand the instructions in English from the doctor the first time another nurse told me the rules again and then took me to yet another nurse who was supposedly going to help me fill out the paper work, but instead went over the rules twice.

There are many observations I have made over the last 2.75 years of Taiwan’s healthcare system most of them positive. Unfortunately knowing that the same procedure in the states is a 10-minute office visit left me with questions about why they were going to such great lengths to perform what I assumed was quick and simple.

I didn’t realize how much of my Saturday morning routine was disrupted by all these rules. I usually get up drink water make a cup of tea or coffee which I will enjoy after coming back from walking the dog. Nothing of the sort was allowed on this particular morning, just a walk with the dog. I checked into the hospital where they have me write my address and signature on what seemed like every page of the multi-page Chinese document and then give me a stack of scrubs to put on. SCRUBS?!! Remember, in America this is a simple in office procedure. When it was clear that I understood I needed to take off all my clothes and leave them in a locker and bring them the key they left me to change. I imagined this is what it feels like to be a nurse getting ready for surgery. Scrubs? Check. Hairnet? Check.

Then, they opened the surgery department door, led me into another waiting room where they took my shoes and replaced them with slippers and freaked out when they realized I still had earrings in. For those of you who know me, yes, it is true, I have quite a few earrings, but I never take them out and forget most of the time that I have them. The nurses quickly exclaimed that I must take all of them out immediately. I tried to explain to them that this was my arm, not my head, or anywhere else on my body for that manner! One of the earrings is one that is a tension hoop that rests on a bead put in place by squeezing the ring with pliers. I haven’t taken it out since I got the piercing and explained that I did not have the tools to take it out. It was a few dramatic moments and a flurry of Chinese exclamations before they told me they did not have pliers to take it out and would have to check with the doctor to see whether my rule breaking (leaving in an earring) would be permissible.

After the earring dramatics, the nurses led me to the operating room. It is everything you think of when you think of an operating room. Everything was stainless steel there was an operating table which they instructed me to lay down on while they covered me with blankets. I lay there waiting for the doctor as they pulled the lights in close. It was my first time laying on the operating table. A fairly surreal and amusing experience as I lay there knowing the simplicity of the “operation”. The doctor gave me a shot of local anesthesia, made the incision, and removed the implant. It took about 15 minutes total from start to finish, but with all the preparations I had been at the hospital about 45 minutes.

Keep in mind that I hadn’t eaten or drank anything for over 13 hours at that point and in true Taiwan fashion it was a very warm and humid day. As I was sitting on the stool waiting for the nurses, after the doctor scheduled my “post-op” appointment, I started to feel light-headed. I asked if I could have some water. The nurse asked me if I had eaten breakfast, to which I replied I had not… remember the nurses from the day before made it very clear I was not supposed to. The nurse told me that I should have eaten! Go Figure.

Supposedly with local anesthesia there is no problem eating or drinking and she was confused as to why I was told to not eat or drink. My request for water was denied or ignored as she brought me chocolate. So there I am sitting on a stool in the operating room with my head between my legs in a cold sweat willing myself not to pass out amused and irritated at the same time that I could have had a normal morning. The chocolate really did the trick, I figure it must be an instant blood sugar spike because I did immediately start to feel better. It was not the water that I asked for but what do I know.

After the added excitement of almost fainting and the failure of the language barrier to help me understand that I should have eaten that morning, the nurse walked me out of the operating room and pointed me in the direction of the locker room. Then, I was alone wandering the halls of the hospital hoping I understood her directions to find my clothes. I shortly located the locker room obtained the key and resumed my normal life starting with a large green tea, a bowl of my favorite beef noodle soup, and boiled dumplings.

That should be where the story and amusement with the whole experience ends, but it doesn’t. Later that evening, I notice that I am developing a rash on my legs and arms. Within a few hours, it has spread from my arms to my torso and legs. As we sat down to dinner at a local Korean restaurant my mouth begins to tingle. I know that this is not normal. We politely ask that our meal, which was literally just served to us be packed up to go and head back to the hospital. This time the ER.

I check in and pay the fee, which is about $18 USD (so cheap for the ER compared to the states) and anxiously wait to be called by the doctor. The doctor did not seem to think that it was a big deal. He told me I ate or came into contact with something that was making me have an allergic reaction. I needed to go home take a shower, wash my clothes, and go to sleep. I thought I had emphasized a few times that I had been to the hospital earlier and it was the only “new” thing I was exposed to that day, but either he wasn’t listening, or I did not speak clearly enough. I only say that because as he was asking me the required questions before prescribing the antihistamine and steroid shots he asked if I had recently had surgery.

“Yes, I was here earlier today!” I thought that was clear. When he seemed surprised by my answer I again went into my story of the implant removal surgery. He said even so the treatment was the same and after the shots I need to go home and sleep. Despite the tingling, he reassured me there was no visible swelling in my mouth, which made me question if now my brain was playing tricks on me. But, the unexplained rash all over my appendages was very much real. He also said he was prescribing some allergy medication for me to take over the next two days, but ONLY if they rash was still present. He seemed so nonchalant I was almost angry, but what do I know, I am not a medical professional.

I was then assigned to sit in another waiting area inside the ER area. I am used to hearing my Chinese name being called, so as I waited I watched as they wheeled patients by who seemed like they needed urgent care compared to me. Instead of calling my name another man walked over to me and asked me if it was my name on the paper. When I agreed he double checked with my hospital bracelet told me to sit and take off my sweater for the injections. I am unsure if it had been a long day for him or if it was his English proficiency level that made his instructions especially disconcerting. I have never been a fan of shots, even as an adult I look away, but these were more painful than I remember (this was actually my second time getting allergy shots in the ER, but the first time it was only because it was the only place open and the allergies had been preventing me from sleeping). After the injections, one in each arm, he gave me the allergy medicine and told me to go pay.

D was patiently waiting in the outside ER waiting room and was everything you want in a support system when you are not quite sure what is wrong. We went to the counter because I thought I needed to pay for the allergy medicine, but the woman said that the insurance covered it ($18 USD for the ER visit, treatment, and medicine: so not the states) and we could go home.

Once home, I took a few photos to show the doctor in my post-surgery appointment, because I was sure that I would have no evidence to show when it came time for the actual appointment. I showered per the doctor’s instructions and went to sleep.

When I got up in the morning the rash was almost all gone. I got up, took the dog out, and resumed my weekend routine. However, by breakfast the rash was back and worse than it had been the night before. I took the medicine prescribed and took a nap, which turned into six hours later. Again, upon waking, the rash was all but gone. I went through this cycle for the next two days except I went to work instead of sleeping. By the fifth day, there was no evidence of the rash’s existence.

By the time I went to my post-operation appointment to check my incision I only had the pictures to show of my exciting weekend. That doctor said it is hard to prove that the surgery and rash are related because there are a lot of allergens in Taiwan, but there is a high possibility that I was allergic to the local anesthesia. He told me that anytime in the future if a doctor is going to use local anesthesia I should recount this incident.

So, no real damage done. I did not die or suffer serious complications, but eventful and looking back on it all highly amusing. My outsider expectations and the Taiwan realities clash to create a comical medical memory.