Well, maybe this posting will cover a few more than just one day in the life here. This is specifically about seeking medical care in the capital, the most European city in all of Morocco.
It started about a month ago when I started experiencing pain in the arches of both feet. It finally was making it difficult to walk so on Wednesday morning I decided to visit the health unit at the embassy. The physician's assistant that serves there thought it might be arthritis setting in, which would be devastating since there isn't much that can be done; but without x-rays, nothing could be definitively determined.
So off I went that afternoon to a radiology clinic across town to get x-rays done. Because I had ridden my bike to work the nurse at the health unit arranged for a driver from the motor pool to take me. I walked in, gave the person behind the desk the "order" for the x-ray that the health unit had given me and paid them the Moroccan equivalent of about $30. I was then directed to sit in a narrow hallway around the corner, opposite 3 sliding doors that were all closed. The bank of 15 or so chairs were about half full and I thought I would be there quite awhile. Interestingly, after about 10 minutes almost everyone else got up and moved to a different desk by the entrance and stood in line there. Was I supposed to do that? Then they were given envelopes that obviously held x-rays, so it became apparent that the person at that desk was in charge of handing out the finished product.
About this time someone called my name and I through the last of the sliding doors to the xray room for my xrays. I couldn't take them at that time but was told they would be ready the next day, Thursday. On Thursday morning the health unit again sent a driver over to pick them up for me. They were now my responsibility from then to the end of time!
That same day after work I had an appointment with an orthopedic doctor, so, with x-rays in hand and with a hand-drawn map that I THOUGHT I understood, we set off for a new part of town, only to end up lost and on the street that took us back to our neighborhood! I was running out of time, so I just had Don drop me off at the grocery store, where there are often taxis waiting for fares. Luckily this was no exception, and I jumped into the first empty cab I saw. I showed the driver the address I needed, but apparently he couldn't read (which isn't unusual here). I pointed him in the general direction we needed to go and then called the English-speaking doctor and had him tell the driver where to take me! Living in a country where you don't speak the language requires come creative thinking at times!
The good news is that the pain isn't from arthritis...it is tendonitis caused by my very flat feet. The doctor prescribed getting cortisone shots to decrease the inflammation and then to have custom inserts made. Sounded like a good plan, EXCEPT that I needed to find my own cortisone because there was a shortage of it in the country and the doctor didn't know where I could get any.
Okay, back to the health unit. They are wonderful there! The nurse (Moroccan) called around and found a nearby pharmacy that had one dose...half way there. That was Friday. Finally on Monday afternoon another dose was found in yet a different part of town! I had my car, but after our adventure trying to find the doctor's office, I decided to just take a taxi. I walked out to the main road from the embassy, but the guard there said it would be hard to catch a taxi because it was rush hour :(
Luckily, a co-worker saw me, said he was vaguely familiar with the area I needed to go and offered to take me. Even more lucky was the fact that he had a GPS in his car that managed to get us to the street the pharmacy was on, so I hopped out and walked the rest of the way. With cortisone in hand, I walked back to the main street and was able to find a taxi back to the embassy within about 10 minutes.
An interesting side about the taxis here. They will pick up people all along the route until the car is full, so first one in gets to go to his/her location and everyone else tags along! I was first one in and this time only one other man joined the ride.
That was yesterday. Today I took some time off from work to go to the podiatrist who is going to make my inserts so that he could measure my feet and get the information he needed. Then I went to the orthopedic doctor again so that he could take the cortisone I managed to find and shoot it into my feet. (yes, it was as painful as it sounds!) The inserts are only going to cost about $115, but the ortho guy charged me over $60 just to inject me with MY cortisone!
So there you have it, my first - and hopefully my last - experience with the Moroccan medical system! The next time you are sitting in that nice sterile looking clinic where you can not only see the doctor but you can get x-rays and blood work done as well, think about those living outside of the U.S., the lucky ones like me who actually have access to some kind of medical care. People in some countries don't even have the opportunities I have here!
It started about a month ago when I started experiencing pain in the arches of both feet. It finally was making it difficult to walk so on Wednesday morning I decided to visit the health unit at the embassy. The physician's assistant that serves there thought it might be arthritis setting in, which would be devastating since there isn't much that can be done; but without x-rays, nothing could be definitively determined.
So off I went that afternoon to a radiology clinic across town to get x-rays done. Because I had ridden my bike to work the nurse at the health unit arranged for a driver from the motor pool to take me. I walked in, gave the person behind the desk the "order" for the x-ray that the health unit had given me and paid them the Moroccan equivalent of about $30. I was then directed to sit in a narrow hallway around the corner, opposite 3 sliding doors that were all closed. The bank of 15 or so chairs were about half full and I thought I would be there quite awhile. Interestingly, after about 10 minutes almost everyone else got up and moved to a different desk by the entrance and stood in line there. Was I supposed to do that? Then they were given envelopes that obviously held x-rays, so it became apparent that the person at that desk was in charge of handing out the finished product.
About this time someone called my name and I through the last of the sliding doors to the xray room for my xrays. I couldn't take them at that time but was told they would be ready the next day, Thursday. On Thursday morning the health unit again sent a driver over to pick them up for me. They were now my responsibility from then to the end of time!
That same day after work I had an appointment with an orthopedic doctor, so, with x-rays in hand and with a hand-drawn map that I THOUGHT I understood, we set off for a new part of town, only to end up lost and on the street that took us back to our neighborhood! I was running out of time, so I just had Don drop me off at the grocery store, where there are often taxis waiting for fares. Luckily this was no exception, and I jumped into the first empty cab I saw. I showed the driver the address I needed, but apparently he couldn't read (which isn't unusual here). I pointed him in the general direction we needed to go and then called the English-speaking doctor and had him tell the driver where to take me! Living in a country where you don't speak the language requires come creative thinking at times!
The good news is that the pain isn't from arthritis...it is tendonitis caused by my very flat feet. The doctor prescribed getting cortisone shots to decrease the inflammation and then to have custom inserts made. Sounded like a good plan, EXCEPT that I needed to find my own cortisone because there was a shortage of it in the country and the doctor didn't know where I could get any.
Okay, back to the health unit. They are wonderful there! The nurse (Moroccan) called around and found a nearby pharmacy that had one dose...half way there. That was Friday. Finally on Monday afternoon another dose was found in yet a different part of town! I had my car, but after our adventure trying to find the doctor's office, I decided to just take a taxi. I walked out to the main road from the embassy, but the guard there said it would be hard to catch a taxi because it was rush hour :(
Luckily, a co-worker saw me, said he was vaguely familiar with the area I needed to go and offered to take me. Even more lucky was the fact that he had a GPS in his car that managed to get us to the street the pharmacy was on, so I hopped out and walked the rest of the way. With cortisone in hand, I walked back to the main street and was able to find a taxi back to the embassy within about 10 minutes.
An interesting side about the taxis here. They will pick up people all along the route until the car is full, so first one in gets to go to his/her location and everyone else tags along! I was first one in and this time only one other man joined the ride.
That was yesterday. Today I took some time off from work to go to the podiatrist who is going to make my inserts so that he could measure my feet and get the information he needed. Then I went to the orthopedic doctor again so that he could take the cortisone I managed to find and shoot it into my feet. (yes, it was as painful as it sounds!) The inserts are only going to cost about $115, but the ortho guy charged me over $60 just to inject me with MY cortisone!
So there you have it, my first - and hopefully my last - experience with the Moroccan medical system! The next time you are sitting in that nice sterile looking clinic where you can not only see the doctor but you can get x-rays and blood work done as well, think about those living outside of the U.S., the lucky ones like me who actually have access to some kind of medical care. People in some countries don't even have the opportunities I have here!
