Pavlovsk

from September 30

Eventually, I will learn my lesson.

I just shouldn't go to the doctor. Ever. Never ever.

Last time I went to the doctor I asked about the "hole" in my right
thigh. Much poking and prodding later, I discover that I am the proud
owner of something that has been stuck in my leg for a decade or so,
there's nothing to be done about it other than cutting it out, unless
it gets infected that would be unnecessary, oh and, it just shifted
around so it will now be irritated by things that didn't irritate it
before, like driving, it'll think it needs to kill a new muscle/nerve
area, and the cold will bother it more than in the past. I learned
nothing much useful and the situation is slightly worse than it was
before. Oh, and there was the marvelous week of pain wherein I
thought Alien, as the thing has been dubbed, was trying to work his
way back out of my thigh.

So, yesterday, I developed a splitting headache after diving under a
desk to plug in my flash drive. This morning I woke up with a
splitting headache, a sore throat, and painful pressure in both ears.
Little worried that I might be coming down with strep throat as our
baby-sitter had it recently. When to the institute, as sitting at
home just means that the dog will be barking at me. Sat through my
first class, and felt much worse. I was running a fever, felt very
weak, throat hurt, ears hurt. Decided to go home. Saw Bryan on the
way out, and decided that I would go to the doctor.

Call the insurance to set up an appointment. Fun times. Make
appointment – 6pm with one of the doctors at one of the European
clinics in St. Petersburg. She supposedly speaks English.

Elena volunteers to go with me, which I'm very grateful for, as she
dealt with interrogating the receptionists (more to follow).

Get to the clinic. Initially, I didn't have to wait very long to see
the first doctor. A nice nurse, does the usual rounds, weight,
height, blood pressure, temperature. I was running a low grade fever
at that point. And I've lost ten pounds somewhere in St. Petersburg.
(Can't you hear me morning?)

The first doctor sort of speaks English – not really. And apparently
the best way to clarify something I didn't understand is to say it
louder. (Yes, lady, I can hear you, but you're throwing Russian
medical terms at me.) She asked me about symptoms and decided that I
needed to see a specialist. Makes a call or two, says the specialist
can see me in 20 minutes.

An hour and forty-five later, and two or three inquires from Elena
later, the specialist finally gets around to me.

Russians are insane.

Fortunately, the ear, nose, and throat specialist speaks much better
English. She also likes to talk and believes in using many words
where a few would have done. She checks my throat, my sinuses, my
ears. Says something to the effect of my eardrums aren't currently
bad off, but there are signs of past inflammation – surprise,
surprise. Wants to run a test on them. I decided not to fight –
after all they are a bit of a chronic problem, and maybe she'll catch
something the US doctors missed. The result is that my eardrums are a
little deviant from normal, but not enough to be problem at the
moment. She is concerned that further congestion will do damage, so I
have stuff to hopefully clear out my sinuses. All kinds of stuffs.
Sprays, drops, inhalers, oh my!

Moving on to my throat. Apparently, in Russia, they cauterize sore
throats with silver nitrate. I'm still skeptical, but I let her do it
(if I had heard the word cauterize, probably wouldn't have, but her
roundabout explanation did not include that word). If it actually
works, and I don't hop online tomorrow to find that silver nitrate is
deadly, I shall sing it's praises. Quite unpleasant, but not painful
per se. But, I'm skeptical.

And, back to the sinuses. She seems to be worried that there might be
a larger problem with my sinuses. (Hey, I am too!) Wants X-rays
done. Okay, whatever, I'm a little worried about payment as I'm not
certain how much the program's insurance covers upfront, but decide
sure why not. Granted, where there something massively wrong with my
sinuses, it ain't being fixed in Russia, but if she noticed something,
I could also have the info sent to the US. If I didn't just decide to
live on decongestants.

None of the x-ray technicians speak English. Between Metra's
elementary Russian and hand gestures it was managed. But, I'm glad I
wasn't really sick. Interesting adventure.

My sinuses look good, by the way.

Okay, back to the specialist. She writes out a prescription for
various and sundry things to clear up the sinus congestion and the
throat infection. (In Russian, by the way, fortunately, I read more
than I speak and have the luxury of relying on a dictionary.) Wants
to see me again in a week to make sure I'm well, also thinks that I
need to be resting at home for the week, and in the Russian system,
she could give me a slip basically ordering the university to let me
stay home, but she would have to see me again to sign off that I'm
well. I decide that's not necessary and talk her into just letting me
send her an e-mail in a week to confirm that I'm better, and promise
to call if I'm not better. (Russian doctors are far more serious
about minor ailments than US doctors.)

The reception people hadn't gone ahead and gotten the necessary copies
of my passport and insurance card while Elena and I were sitting there
for nearly two hours. So that had to be done. I think the
receptionist must have straightened out payment with the insurance
company on his own (I know he called to check on paying for the
prescriptions), because the bill was several hundred dollars over the
amount the insurance generally pays up front, and I didn't owe
anything, not did they ask for credit card information. So kudos to
the nice receptionist guy. If that is the case. (The insurance
company doesn't have a co-pay in theory, in practice its more
complicated.)

I finally left the clinic at 9. Drug my little self into the
apartment at 10:30. Explained to Galya with some difficulty that I
hadn't eaten any dinner yet, could I fix an egg for myself. Galya, of
course, fixes me an egg and a cosiska herself. Ate. Figured out my
drugs with the help of the Russian dictionary. And wrote this
account. Oh my.