We just had a long weekend in Latvia due to the national holiday on 4 May, marking 20 since Latvia proclaimed the renewal of its independence. I would be lying if I said I knew what went on during the holidays (except for the clusters of national flags propped up in strategic places around Old Town), as I was under the weather for all of it. Friday to Tuesday, I stayed at home, venturing outside only a few times and no further than the closest Narvesen a block away. Tonsillitis, nasal polyps, fever, headache. Best four-day weekend I've had in a LONG time.
Now I'm on my last day of antibiotics and am getting ready for a final few hours of mad dashing around to collect the last few items I need before heading off for a two week mother-daughter vacation. The last time we did this was in Germany in 2005, when my mother came to visit me while I was studying abroad. This year is a slight upgrade for her, as we'll be in a country where she fluently speaks the language.
I'm glad I got the worst part of the sickness out of the way before vacation, but will be wary the entire time of the cold and rainy UK weather. Forecasts say it will be around 10 degrees colder than it will be in Latvia. But I'll be armed with several scarves, plan on drinking more than my fair share of tea and am just excited for another chance to be away from the computer for two weeks. That said, I've got a few notebook pages scribbled full of geocaching locations, a handful of New Yorker fiction reading podcasts on my iPod and half a season of Corner Gas loaded onto my mobile phone. I think I'm more than prepared for the temporary separation.
There may or may not be updates posted during the actual trip. This depends on how frequently we have to visit internet cafes to find information on things to do or see. As if we're going to run out :) England, here we come!!
Showing posts with label medical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medical. Show all posts
Friday, May 7, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Sore Eyes
I apparently have papillary conjunctivitis in my left eye. I went to the doctor this evening and after the ophthalmologist thoroughly poked around my eyeballs (so thoroughly, in fact, that we probably should have gone on at least three dates, first), she gave me a diagnosis, two prescriptions and sent me away bleary eyed and sniffling. For the next two weeks I get to administer two medications two times daily. Then I have to go back and meet with the contact lens specialists to have them tell me if I can even WEAR lenses. I think? Maybe she just meant whether or not I can wear them in respect of my poor, sick eyes.
As opposed to previous trips to the doctor's, this trip was a bit more expensive. Though I did get some kind of note qualifying me for a discount next time. The Latvian medical world works in strange ways.
Wonderfully sunny in Riga.
As opposed to previous trips to the doctor's, this trip was a bit more expensive. Though I did get some kind of note qualifying me for a discount next time. The Latvian medical world works in strange ways.
Wonderfully sunny in Riga.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Universal Medications
This week has been fairly gruelling health-wise. It's amazing how something small like an accidental bite to the inner lip can result in a canker sore so painful I have to literally go home after work and sleep. It's hard to eat, drink, talk, laugh. Sometimes it's just painful to sit and do nothing. Seems like the "injury" is located at a kind of nerve centre, so the pain shoots up through my jaw and into my ears. GREAT times.
This is an entry to showcase the absolute absurdity or universal greatness (depending on how you look at it) that is Medicine in Latvia.
I've received recommendations from almost everyone as to what I should do/administer/not do regarding this canker sore. I am not allowed to drink juice, eat fruits, or spicy, hard or abrasive foods. Basically, anything with real flavour is off limits. If you know me, you know how miserable this has made me the past five days.
After realising that obsessively applying a numbing agent meant for teething children (the alcohol in the ingredients may actually be doing more harm than good), I have turned to other remedies. Baking soda, salt water, black tea bags, hydrogen peroxide. Ouch, blech, ouch and nothing.
After my numerous "consultations", I have decided that doing nothing that will make the canker sore hurt will be the best course of action. I understand that it may take the sore a full two weeks to heal, but COME ON. I can't do this that much longer.
Now I'm down to using something called "Faringo Spray", which is basically a mixture of seabuckthorn and calendula oils. Faringo Spray is first and foremost intended to be used as a throat spray for sore or infected throats, but per instruction leaflet extends to uses related to general infections of the mouth and (here comes the absurd/great part) is even listed as being good for outer injuries such as cuts, burns and rashes.
I understand that natural oils have many purposes, but I can't get over the fact that the spectrum of things this medicine is supposed to heal is SO WIDE. And random. Burns? Seriously.
This morning I stopped off at the pharmacy before work and picked up something called "Kanistad N", which is usually recommended for people with dental prosthetics to heal mouth sores and irritations. According to my relatives AND the lady at the pharmacy, this stuff is supposed to be ace. I read something online about a kind of paste or liquid meant to heal mouth sores that turns your teeth blue -- so I'm glad I wasn't recommended this stuff.
Another thing recommended (and heeded) was to take Ibuprofen. Since my "big stash" is at work, I picked up a smaller pack for a whopping LVL 0.25 (that's USD 0.50). I was about to buy more, but this Latvian Ibuprofen has an expiry date in March. MARCH. This medicine will be good for the next MONTH, at best. Which leads me to wonder -- what the crap is in this stuff that renders it useless in such a short amount of time?
My grandmother recommended that I simply chew or suck on Tums tablets (many websites recommend swishing Malox around your mouth for a few minutes) to neutralise the pH level in my mouth. I ate my last calcium-fortified Tums tablet over four months ago, but had a pack of Gas-X chewable tablets my mother had sent me. I will say this once: GAS-X IS NOT THE SAME AS TUMS. Oh, God, is it ever not the same. That was a burning, unholy mistake I will never, ever make again.
Other simple at-home remedies include drinking chamomile tea. Which I'm not a huge fan of doing, but let me tell you, was I EVER chilled out last night. Whoa, man. Whoa.
Next time I will write about the whole repatriation business. So until then I'm going to keep trying to nurse my poor mouth back to health with these Latvian wonder-meds.
This is an entry to showcase the absolute absurdity or universal greatness (depending on how you look at it) that is Medicine in Latvia.
I've received recommendations from almost everyone as to what I should do/administer/not do regarding this canker sore. I am not allowed to drink juice, eat fruits, or spicy, hard or abrasive foods. Basically, anything with real flavour is off limits. If you know me, you know how miserable this has made me the past five days.
After realising that obsessively applying a numbing agent meant for teething children (the alcohol in the ingredients may actually be doing more harm than good), I have turned to other remedies. Baking soda, salt water, black tea bags, hydrogen peroxide. Ouch, blech, ouch and nothing.
After my numerous "consultations", I have decided that doing nothing that will make the canker sore hurt will be the best course of action. I understand that it may take the sore a full two weeks to heal, but COME ON. I can't do this that much longer.
Now I'm down to using something called "Faringo Spray", which is basically a mixture of seabuckthorn and calendula oils. Faringo Spray is first and foremost intended to be used as a throat spray for sore or infected throats, but per instruction leaflet extends to uses related to general infections of the mouth and (here comes the absurd/great part) is even listed as being good for outer injuries such as cuts, burns and rashes.
I understand that natural oils have many purposes, but I can't get over the fact that the spectrum of things this medicine is supposed to heal is SO WIDE. And random. Burns? Seriously.
This morning I stopped off at the pharmacy before work and picked up something called "Kanistad N", which is usually recommended for people with dental prosthetics to heal mouth sores and irritations. According to my relatives AND the lady at the pharmacy, this stuff is supposed to be ace. I read something online about a kind of paste or liquid meant to heal mouth sores that turns your teeth blue -- so I'm glad I wasn't recommended this stuff.
Another thing recommended (and heeded) was to take Ibuprofen. Since my "big stash" is at work, I picked up a smaller pack for a whopping LVL 0.25 (that's USD 0.50). I was about to buy more, but this Latvian Ibuprofen has an expiry date in March. MARCH. This medicine will be good for the next MONTH, at best. Which leads me to wonder -- what the crap is in this stuff that renders it useless in such a short amount of time?
My grandmother recommended that I simply chew or suck on Tums tablets (many websites recommend swishing Malox around your mouth for a few minutes) to neutralise the pH level in my mouth. I ate my last calcium-fortified Tums tablet over four months ago, but had a pack of Gas-X chewable tablets my mother had sent me. I will say this once: GAS-X IS NOT THE SAME AS TUMS. Oh, God, is it ever not the same. That was a burning, unholy mistake I will never, ever make again.
Other simple at-home remedies include drinking chamomile tea. Which I'm not a huge fan of doing, but let me tell you, was I EVER chilled out last night. Whoa, man. Whoa.
Next time I will write about the whole repatriation business. So until then I'm going to keep trying to nurse my poor mouth back to health with these Latvian wonder-meds.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
About Latvian Dentists and Other Doctors
Today I went in for two consultations.
The first one was a form of physical therapy cum massage, during which I basically got a massage. The woman I went to see was recommended to me by a co-worker who has known the woman for some time. Though the better part of the consultation (pretty great that the consultations are so hands-on some of the time) was mostly trying to work out the ridiculous stiffness in my right shoulder and shoulder blade, a tiny part at the beginning was spent with my head being suspended with the help of a strap, then turned this way and that. This ended up being to make sure the problem wasn't in my spine. The best part of all of it? Massages like this are (rightly) considered a medical procedure, in my case is most likely a result of my working conditions and is covered by my insurance. Which I paid for, I know, but still.
The goal is to get me in for another 9 sessions to knock this thing out of my park, so to speak.
The second consultation was with a dentist, to determine if the apparent upward-crescent shaped wear in the bottom of my right front tooth (hah, seems as if the entire right side of my body is having troubles) was actually a wear, or a chip, and if it could be fixed. It's pretty widely known that Latvian dentists have good reputations for being skilled, efficient, and inexpensive. Many practices advertise to tourists who are looking for "medical vacation" options. Anyway, I went to the consultation and was told by the dentist that I had a few options for fixing what he determined was a chip in the enamel of my tooth. One was to fill it in with the same stuff used for filling cavities, but which would probably fall out within a week to a month later. Another option was to get ceramic caps, I guess they would be, which would be the most drastic option. Then he remembered he could always kind of "buff down" the corner of the chipped tooth to make it look even. When he said "buff", I heard "file". I said it seemed to make more sense than a filling.
So I'm sitting in the patient's chair, thinking about how I'm going to have to decide on what to do, then make another appointment, when the back of my chair is moving down and the dentist takes the buffer/filer and I have just enough time to realise what is about to happen and open my mouth. Water droplets fly everywhere to the whir of the buffer. I'm handed a mirror, and then I lose it. I laugh so hard form the bottom of my stomach up that the dentist and his assistant just look at me for a few moments before nervously laughing with and asking what is going on. But I'm laughing too hard to accurately explain that something like that would NEVER happen in America; there would be questions, new appointments made, lots of murmuring and thinking... I manage to say something about how everything looks good and it's great, but it's just so damn funny to come in for a consultation and next thing you know your teeth are being filed down.
The dentist stopped me there and said it wasn't "filing", but "buffing". So I kept laughing, this time with him and the assistant laughing with me. Then the dentist says "Well, there's nothing really for me to do here", then tells me I can go see the hygienist if I want, so my trip here isn't wasted. And I did. I waited 30 minutes, but I had thought to bring a book and wasn't bothered. All in all... a very good day for medical visits. I have yet to be disappointed by dentists in Latvia, though I've only seen three specialists to date.
I also think I did well enough on the written and analogies part of the GRE to make up for how shameful the math section will turn out :D
The first one was a form of physical therapy cum massage, during which I basically got a massage. The woman I went to see was recommended to me by a co-worker who has known the woman for some time. Though the better part of the consultation (pretty great that the consultations are so hands-on some of the time) was mostly trying to work out the ridiculous stiffness in my right shoulder and shoulder blade, a tiny part at the beginning was spent with my head being suspended with the help of a strap, then turned this way and that. This ended up being to make sure the problem wasn't in my spine. The best part of all of it? Massages like this are (rightly) considered a medical procedure, in my case is most likely a result of my working conditions and is covered by my insurance. Which I paid for, I know, but still.
The goal is to get me in for another 9 sessions to knock this thing out of my park, so to speak.
The second consultation was with a dentist, to determine if the apparent upward-crescent shaped wear in the bottom of my right front tooth (hah, seems as if the entire right side of my body is having troubles) was actually a wear, or a chip, and if it could be fixed. It's pretty widely known that Latvian dentists have good reputations for being skilled, efficient, and inexpensive. Many practices advertise to tourists who are looking for "medical vacation" options. Anyway, I went to the consultation and was told by the dentist that I had a few options for fixing what he determined was a chip in the enamel of my tooth. One was to fill it in with the same stuff used for filling cavities, but which would probably fall out within a week to a month later. Another option was to get ceramic caps, I guess they would be, which would be the most drastic option. Then he remembered he could always kind of "buff down" the corner of the chipped tooth to make it look even. When he said "buff", I heard "file". I said it seemed to make more sense than a filling.
So I'm sitting in the patient's chair, thinking about how I'm going to have to decide on what to do, then make another appointment, when the back of my chair is moving down and the dentist takes the buffer/filer and I have just enough time to realise what is about to happen and open my mouth. Water droplets fly everywhere to the whir of the buffer. I'm handed a mirror, and then I lose it. I laugh so hard form the bottom of my stomach up that the dentist and his assistant just look at me for a few moments before nervously laughing with and asking what is going on. But I'm laughing too hard to accurately explain that something like that would NEVER happen in America; there would be questions, new appointments made, lots of murmuring and thinking... I manage to say something about how everything looks good and it's great, but it's just so damn funny to come in for a consultation and next thing you know your teeth are being filed down.
The dentist stopped me there and said it wasn't "filing", but "buffing". So I kept laughing, this time with him and the assistant laughing with me. Then the dentist says "Well, there's nothing really for me to do here", then tells me I can go see the hygienist if I want, so my trip here isn't wasted. And I did. I waited 30 minutes, but I had thought to bring a book and wasn't bothered. All in all... a very good day for medical visits. I have yet to be disappointed by dentists in Latvia, though I've only seen three specialists to date.
I also think I did well enough on the written and analogies part of the GRE to make up for how shameful the math section will turn out :D
Friday, November 27, 2009
More Pumpkins and More Vets
Please grant me Weekend NOW.
This has been week two of three rough weeks; I'm happy to say that the third week of huge projects will only last until next Tuesday. Then I should be somewhat back to normal in regard to a work load, though there is a possibility that this will not happen.
Tonight is "American Culture" event night at work. I'll be leading an English activity and have made 16 cups-worth of cranberry sauce and baked three loaves of pumpkin bread (this was the way I spent my US Thanksgiving evening). The sad thing is that I have enough pumpkin purée left over to make pumpkin bread for another year.
That's a rough estimate.
Saturday the cat gets another vet visit, this time to catch him up on his vaccinations. Sorry, buddy, but it has to happen. I honestly am partially expecting to have to leave the cat at the clinic overnight so they can extract all of the broken needle tips that will lodge into his skin. This cat is the King of Skitters and I don't foresee that this visit will go smoothly. The less traumatising purpose of the trip will be to get him some more de-worming pills.
This morning I had my left hand scratched up and nearly took a paw-smack to the face FOR NOT GETTING UP THE MILLISECOND MY ALARM WENT OFF. Thanks, cat.
I am incredibly tired, incredibly drained, and want nothing more than to go to sleep relatively early tonight, go for a run tomorrow morning and take an easy weekend. I'm trying to watch my health as best as I can -- two more people have died in Latvia due to H1N1+complications. I'm considering re-visiting a clinic to get a prescription for a steroid inhaler, just in case I get a head cold that develops into what I had earlier this year.
This has been week two of three rough weeks; I'm happy to say that the third week of huge projects will only last until next Tuesday. Then I should be somewhat back to normal in regard to a work load, though there is a possibility that this will not happen.
Tonight is "American Culture" event night at work. I'll be leading an English activity and have made 16 cups-worth of cranberry sauce and baked three loaves of pumpkin bread (this was the way I spent my US Thanksgiving evening). The sad thing is that I have enough pumpkin purée left over to make pumpkin bread for another year.
That's a rough estimate.
Saturday the cat gets another vet visit, this time to catch him up on his vaccinations. Sorry, buddy, but it has to happen. I honestly am partially expecting to have to leave the cat at the clinic overnight so they can extract all of the broken needle tips that will lodge into his skin. This cat is the King of Skitters and I don't foresee that this visit will go smoothly. The less traumatising purpose of the trip will be to get him some more de-worming pills.
This morning I had my left hand scratched up and nearly took a paw-smack to the face FOR NOT GETTING UP THE MILLISECOND MY ALARM WENT OFF. Thanks, cat.
I am incredibly tired, incredibly drained, and want nothing more than to go to sleep relatively early tonight, go for a run tomorrow morning and take an easy weekend. I'm trying to watch my health as best as I can -- two more people have died in Latvia due to H1N1+complications. I'm considering re-visiting a clinic to get a prescription for a steroid inhaler, just in case I get a head cold that develops into what I had earlier this year.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Garlic and Vets
Saturday night some friends and I went to Kiploku krogs – The Garlic Bar – and had a very flavourful dinner. As far as I know, almost everything on the menu has some amount of garlic in it, including some of the desserts and beverages (ice cream with honey-garlic sauce, anyone? Or how about some delicious garlic mulled wine?). The joke/saying that goes with this restaurant is that if you plan to go, it is recommended to spend the rest of the evening hanging out with the same group of people who were at dinner, as you are the only ones who will be able to stand the garlicy company. I don't think any of us ate enough garlic for it to be seeping out of our pores, but I definitely still had the taste on my tongue the next morning.
But the food was delicious, the garlic mulled wine was as well (for this they don't actually crush the garlic, just drop one steamed clove into the drink, so the garlic taste is almost undetectable) and the prices were decent. Definitely a must as far as going back for more.
Now about the visit to the vet. Oh, experiences. First I called the taxi company to make sure I could transport the cat that way (by car from my apartment is the most direct, as with any other transport I would have to walk through the city for 10-15 minutes to reach the respective tram stop or the main train station with a howling, dagger-spitting cat, then sit on said mode of transportation for another 30 minutes while people eye me either warily or with annoyance as the cat makes horrific "I think I'm dying slowly and painfully so I'm going to make you experience every second of it" sounds. The cab company is run by saints who allow pets and even said "Hey, if you have a kennel for the cat - even better!" Like I was going to just carry the cat down to the car without any problems. On the way to the vet the cat literally crapped himself silly (at least we had some fecal samples for the doctor when we got there) and stunk up the cab. Not my problem.
The visit itself went well; the vet was a younger guy who kept dropping things all over the place, including at random and uncontrollable intervals from his pockets. He also knocked a few things off the exam table and expressed his frustration that something was going strangely that morning. He couldn't find anything wrong with the cat, and I started to think it might be because of his own judgement. The man is holding my cat down while sticking a thermometer up the poor animal's butt and tells me, "Wow, your cat is really freaked out." I just looked at the vet and kind of laughed. If he can't see the reason for the cat's nerves, then he's beyond my help.
The cat got a de-worming pill, prescriptions for a kind of anti-diarrhea pill and a "natural bacteria" balancer, and I got tagged with an LVL 19 bill (NOT bad at all - this price includes the medicine) and the strong suggestion to take the cat in for more de-worming and the next round of shots once he feels better.
The cab ride back started with the cabby picking up the cage and looking at it, then up to me with eyes glowing like a small child's and asked excitedly "A kitty!?" The cat was able to control its bowl movements better during the return trip and immediately forgot his recent trauma once back at home and stretched across the top of the radiator.
At this time it seems like the cat has gotten better. It was absolute hell trying to get the medicines in him; the pills were ridiculous (my cousin, also a vet, said that he doesn't even give that specific type of pill to clients for their pets until he chops them up and puts them into gel-caps to mask the bitter taste) and if I fail miserably trying to shove those down the cat's throat, I was generally too tired to try to get the other paste (which is apparently semi-delicious and tolerable) into his mouth. But the symptoms of whatever look like they're gone and I was able to call the clinic and let them know that everything seemed to be back in order. The cat is now splayed out on my lap, but little does he know that another vet visit is just around the corner.
Tonight I also went to choir practice with the Martinu koris. It went about as well as I could have expected it to go. I haven't completely forgotten how to sing, though practising my violin more will definitely get that hearing back into shape. Tomorrow night I go to play my violin in a Latvian fiddle-type setting with some folk dances/games people. That may be a bit more nerve-racking.
But the food was delicious, the garlic mulled wine was as well (for this they don't actually crush the garlic, just drop one steamed clove into the drink, so the garlic taste is almost undetectable) and the prices were decent. Definitely a must as far as going back for more.
Now about the visit to the vet. Oh, experiences. First I called the taxi company to make sure I could transport the cat that way (by car from my apartment is the most direct, as with any other transport I would have to walk through the city for 10-15 minutes to reach the respective tram stop or the main train station with a howling, dagger-spitting cat, then sit on said mode of transportation for another 30 minutes while people eye me either warily or with annoyance as the cat makes horrific "I think I'm dying slowly and painfully so I'm going to make you experience every second of it" sounds. The cab company is run by saints who allow pets and even said "Hey, if you have a kennel for the cat - even better!" Like I was going to just carry the cat down to the car without any problems. On the way to the vet the cat literally crapped himself silly (at least we had some fecal samples for the doctor when we got there) and stunk up the cab. Not my problem.
The visit itself went well; the vet was a younger guy who kept dropping things all over the place, including at random and uncontrollable intervals from his pockets. He also knocked a few things off the exam table and expressed his frustration that something was going strangely that morning. He couldn't find anything wrong with the cat, and I started to think it might be because of his own judgement. The man is holding my cat down while sticking a thermometer up the poor animal's butt and tells me, "Wow, your cat is really freaked out." I just looked at the vet and kind of laughed. If he can't see the reason for the cat's nerves, then he's beyond my help.
The cat got a de-worming pill, prescriptions for a kind of anti-diarrhea pill and a "natural bacteria" balancer, and I got tagged with an LVL 19 bill (NOT bad at all - this price includes the medicine) and the strong suggestion to take the cat in for more de-worming and the next round of shots once he feels better.
The cab ride back started with the cabby picking up the cage and looking at it, then up to me with eyes glowing like a small child's and asked excitedly "A kitty!?" The cat was able to control its bowl movements better during the return trip and immediately forgot his recent trauma once back at home and stretched across the top of the radiator.
At this time it seems like the cat has gotten better. It was absolute hell trying to get the medicines in him; the pills were ridiculous (my cousin, also a vet, said that he doesn't even give that specific type of pill to clients for their pets until he chops them up and puts them into gel-caps to mask the bitter taste) and if I fail miserably trying to shove those down the cat's throat, I was generally too tired to try to get the other paste (which is apparently semi-delicious and tolerable) into his mouth. But the symptoms of whatever look like they're gone and I was able to call the clinic and let them know that everything seemed to be back in order. The cat is now splayed out on my lap, but little does he know that another vet visit is just around the corner.
Tonight I also went to choir practice with the Martinu koris. It went about as well as I could have expected it to go. I haven't completely forgotten how to sing, though practising my violin more will definitely get that hearing back into shape. Tomorrow night I go to play my violin in a Latvian fiddle-type setting with some folk dances/games people. That may be a bit more nerve-racking.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Jelly-bellied
Just had my second of what will end up being three trips to the clinic. Today's task was to hit up the ultrasonoscopy/ultrasound section to be, what I have now deemed it, "jelly-bellied". This physician was very grandmotherly, and after looking at the write-up of Tuesday's surgeon looked at me and very sincerely asked "Alright, but how do YOU feel?" The procedure itself was...surprisingly calming? The ultrasound "wand", I'll call it, was very warm. I could have fallen asleep and kind of wish I had done so and had started snoring, just to see the physicians face when she'd have to shake me awake.
Of all the institutional things in Latvia, I think I like the health system the most, minus the 1. Riga Hospital, which seems to be the home to rampant ignorance, with the exception of the women at Registration. I'm also VERY glad I signed up for the health policy offered through work, as the visit to the surgeon would have set me back LVL 20 (~$40) and to the ultrasonoscopy a whopping LVL 30 (~$60). I'm pretty sure that I'm closing in on the coverage limit, but since I go so rarely to the doctor for actual problems, I'm not complaining yet.
Tomorrow I go back to have my ultrasound results looked at and explained to me by the surgeon. What I can discern from the medical text (another perk of my job -- you unwillingly pick up jargon the form the ability to decipher texts you otherwise would never look into) tells me that I need to ask the surgeon to explain to me what's going on. But overall the report reads positively and doesn't scream "IMMEDIATE SURGERY!" or "THIS IS THE MOST MESSED UP CASE EVER!" or "WTF?"
So I'm not worried.
Of all the institutional things in Latvia, I think I like the health system the most, minus the 1. Riga Hospital, which seems to be the home to rampant ignorance, with the exception of the women at Registration. I'm also VERY glad I signed up for the health policy offered through work, as the visit to the surgeon would have set me back LVL 20 (~$40) and to the ultrasonoscopy a whopping LVL 30 (~$60). I'm pretty sure that I'm closing in on the coverage limit, but since I go so rarely to the doctor for actual problems, I'm not complaining yet.
Tomorrow I go back to have my ultrasound results looked at and explained to me by the surgeon. What I can discern from the medical text (another perk of my job -- you unwillingly pick up jargon the form the ability to decipher texts you otherwise would never look into) tells me that I need to ask the surgeon to explain to me what's going on. But overall the report reads positively and doesn't scream "IMMEDIATE SURGERY!" or "THIS IS THE MOST MESSED UP CASE EVER!" or "WTF?"
So I'm not worried.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Looking the Other Way
Yesterday I had an appointment at a nearby clinic with a surgeon. During the visit I had my lower abdomen poked and prodded and was then instructed to turn my head and cough.
I was lying on the exam table and almost lost it in a fit of laughter. Turning your head and coughing is something I associate with the 1970s-1980s, males and prostate exams. I guess it works both ways. It was all I could to to turn my head quick enough and cough extra loud to mask my guffawing.
I've said it once and I'll say it again: the Latvian health care system never ceases to amaze or amuse me. I get to go back tomorrow (Thursday) and expect a whole new adventure.
Also, after several days in a row of rainy and overcast weather and general fall frigidness, it promises to be a nice 12°C today, which means I may be able to finally get a decent run in. My flatmate Julija is also back from Russia -- TDA Ligo, the dance troupe she rolls with, won the Grand Prix in St. Petersburg.
I look relatively dishevelled this morning because my cat has taken to lovingly kneading the back of my head while I sleep. The effect of his furry pads and ruthless talons digging into my scalp create a nice 80s prom look that is hard to brush out or comb down. I will have to find a way to avoid this. The easiest ways probably involve wearing a hat or reactivating my ebay.com account and researching whether the sale of animals is legal.
I was lying on the exam table and almost lost it in a fit of laughter. Turning your head and coughing is something I associate with the 1970s-1980s, males and prostate exams. I guess it works both ways. It was all I could to to turn my head quick enough and cough extra loud to mask my guffawing.
I've said it once and I'll say it again: the Latvian health care system never ceases to amaze or amuse me. I get to go back tomorrow (Thursday) and expect a whole new adventure.
Also, after several days in a row of rainy and overcast weather and general fall frigidness, it promises to be a nice 12°C today, which means I may be able to finally get a decent run in. My flatmate Julija is also back from Russia -- TDA Ligo, the dance troupe she rolls with, won the Grand Prix in St. Petersburg.
I look relatively dishevelled this morning because my cat has taken to lovingly kneading the back of my head while I sleep. The effect of his furry pads and ruthless talons digging into my scalp create a nice 80s prom look that is hard to brush out or comb down. I will have to find a way to avoid this. The easiest ways probably involve wearing a hat or reactivating my ebay.com account and researching whether the sale of animals is legal.
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