Professor Sharon

Well, what a busy few days! Although I want to put up a posting about our great day trip with the school to the towns of Segovia and Avila over the weekend; tonight I write about my being sick…

A couple of weeks ago in Madrid, hubby and I had a bad head cold. Hubby’s was much worse and we spent the 5 days in Madrid before coming here resting up and recuperating. We never know where germs come from, of course, but I think our trip to Morocco wore our immune system down; and that’s probably why we got ill.

We arrived in Salamanca about a week ago and seemed well. The middle of last week I awoke in the night with an awful sore throat. Well, I figured it was the same cold and went to the pharmacy, drank juice, ate soup in restaurants, etc. Over the weekend, it got progressively worse with hard swollen glands and as my kids love to know “yucky green stuff”!

So after a rough night last night, when we got up at our homestay this morning, I decided I had to see a doctor. I was pretty sure it was a bacterial infection and not a cold. After some great help from our homestay mother calling the school to ask what clinic to go to (thank goodness because our Spanish would not have worked); we set off to walk the few blocks to the clinic.

The front desk person was actually the same as home; busy, too much to do, and even after saying we couldn’t speak that much Spanish (oh, I didn’t mention that I have no voice left anyways), she rattled away. Somehow we figured out what forms she needed, although I do think she was a bit impatient with us in the end.

We were sent to room 3 and fortunately only a couple of people needed to see a doctor right away. But I was glad not to be first, because I could figure out what to do. A nurse does not come out to get you; you wait until the person in front of you comes out of the doctor’s door and you just go right in. Interesting.

Went in with my symptoms written out by me on a 3 x 5 card, since my voice wasn’t working. And all went well! YEAH! While I knew it wasn’t an emergency (we would have needed a translator for sure); I am so rarely this ill that I knew what I needed and was worried I’d be able to express myself.

Other fascinating things about the examination: they take your temperature under your arm (that hasn’t been done to me since I was a little girl:), and in order to hear my lungs, I had to take both my shirts off. There was none of America’s fussing with paper gowns, just take off your clothes for the doc!

So after writing up my diagnosis, I got the sheet and a prescription and off we went to the pharmacy. By the way, we were sent to a private clinic and this visit cost me 40 Euros! (which I was told by my insurance company before I left the US that with a receipt they would reimburse us).

I had three kinds of medicines prescribed, one an antibiotic. I held my breath waiting for the total and she said 12, 75. I actually gasped and said “what?” I was sure that in my illness I had missed the 100 that surely went in front of the number. Nope! 12,75 euros. I asked my homestay mother about this later, and she said that it’s always this inexpensive and that elders in Spain get their medications for free.

Well, after one day of medicine, I’m already feeling on the slope to wellness again. I’m proud of myself for having enough broken Spanish to get myself what I needed (and I have to say it helped hugely to have a hubby along!) How difficult it must be to be ill where you don’t speak the language and be all alone.

Tomorrow I promise a posting more cheerful about the beautiful towns of Segovia and Avila.