Mighty Healthy

Experiences with the universal health care system have been hot and cold. Last year, the wife had a virus that went undiagnosed for a dangerously long time, to the point that she felt like she couldn't find out what was wrong if she remained here. Further aggravating her situation were the cultural barriers, me not being able to accompany her to certain parts of the hospital, or her having long wait times because, apparently, she wasn't a V.I.P. But at least there is the option of going to another state-run hospital for free or nearly free service before deciding to take an expensive flight home to have a very expensive uninsured doctors visit. One just has to anticipate semi-crowded facilities (depending on day/time of day) and appointments that may be far in the future. Though the hospitals are calm and clean, and there seems to be an initiative to improve customer service (Hamad, the central hospital, now has people in "Can I help you?" shirts floating around), one may still seek service at a private hospital to either have a more familiar experience (i.e. husbands allowed in all facilities) or to be seen sooner. However, we've had long wait times and crowded facilities at private hospitals and easy, comfortable experiences at public hospitals, so by no means is any of this a general guide to health services in Doha. These are just some of our experiences. 

Your health is one of the hardest things to trust someone else to take care of, but it's an area that, even though we should be more intuitive about, the average person seems to know very little of. So you can imagine how nerve-wracking it can be to seek care in an Arab country when you're from New York. In my opinion, the health care system is quite good here. We've had a baby and survived a major health scare, and although the system isn't without it's glaring flaws, I can't see how the average person who has to put up with the (to put it nicely) convoluted system back home, wouldn't prefer it. 

Still, the difficulties can turn your day, and smile, upside down pretty quickly. Sometimes it's neither your fault, nor the system's. When my wife was going through her health scare, eventually she received a diagnosis, but it was after so long, and seemed so unhelpful, that it was hard to trust. It took so long because they were eliminating all possibilities since it was hard to figure out. This isn't a typical experience for us, and it was just pretty scary. The doctors were doing their jobs, but language barriers and rude customer service made it all harder to deal with. The good thing was having the option to try another place. The Cuban Hospital is 45 minutes across the desert, but that wasn't far to go to have a completely different experience. Being from New York, the Latin influence of the hospital was very welcoming. But the diagnosis was the same. It's just that the comfort level made a difference concerning how much trust we put into each set of professionals.

That's not the whole hospital, trust me.

Then there are the times when we are caught up in a system that is still in the process of updating and modernizing. Since the building of capable facilities can't keep up with population growth, which is the fastest on the planet, clinics are backing up in the city, and residents are being sent to be treated on the outskirts. After recently discovering what our assigned clinic is, we went there to get shots for the baby. But we were told that appointments were full and we'd have to take Sage to a hospital in a municipality we weren't familiar with, a good ways from home. This is the map and instructions we were given:

I wish I was making this up.

Right, they're gonna have to do better than this. They might as well have given us this map:

"Keep going past Africa, stop before you get to Iran. Can't miss it."

This is a city that is still being mapped, and GPS can't get you to a lot of places. Getting lost is the best way to find your way around. It's a very small city and all roads lead back to the city centre so there's never much need to worry. Even still, I'd much rather go to a hospital across town than one across the desert. But beggars can't be choosers and the sick must often be highly accommodating. All in all, as long as the apple a day we get for being teachers offsets the germs we're exposed to by...being teachers, we shouldn't have to become too cozy with any of the medical facilities. ¡Salud! 

Do(g)ha

As I approached the house I tutor at today, I heard the barking of what sounded like a large dog, which is unusual because dogs are rarely kept as pets in Muslim households for cultural reasons. My hope was that the dog was actually in the yard next door because the house I tutor at is pretty lawless and not the place you'd want to see a large dog with free reign. 

Also, no house is a place I'd like to see a large dog with free reign. 

To my dismay, and fear, more fear than dismay, the dog belonged to them, and I was rerouted from my normal path as I walked through the entrance gate, but not rerouted enough to feel safe. 

My student told me that the dog was returned to them after being stolen, possibly sold back to them by the person who stole it. Yea I know that sounds pretty weird but that was my best guess through the language barrier, which is more problematic at certain times than others. He also told me that the dog hadn't eaten since being taken, which is hard to believe because the dog was gone for well over a month, possibly multiple months, but not THAT hard to believe as I watched the dog ravenously chew on a piece of meat I hoped it would continue to focus on as I slid past it. 

Because of the alleged time that elapsed since the dog's last meal, I was told during our session that I had to avoid it because if not, it would probably jump on my back and kill me by attacking my neck. 

That's not something I'd want to happen. 

I'd want that to not happen to me.

And because I'd want that to not happen to me, I tutored with one eye and ear towards the door, just in case the dog made it inside the room and I had to make a split-second decision that involved one of us being fed to the dog, and me escaping as that happened. Thankfully, no one was eaten, polygons were studied, and the dog wasn't outside when I exited an hour later. Because you KNOW that was the final obstacle that ran through my head as the session wound down. Hopefully, the dog isn't stolen again, but if so, I hope the thief feeds it this time.