Categories
Health Steve travel

When you're lost in the rain in Jaurez . . .

As Reesa said, the couple who picked us up to drive us from El Paso to Jaurez were exceptionally nice.  Up until then my arrangements with the medical group (medicaltourismco.com) had been very professional in feel; but this felt personal and family-like; in part because of the child car-chair in the back seat.  I suppose this ought to be have bothered me, but in fact it was reassuring.

We drove past the border easily enough, seeing the rows and rows and rows of cars waiting to cross back into the US.  My hosts made a remark about new laws at the border, and how long the wait was to cross.  I muttered, “Bush!” and they laughed and nodded.  It seemed that one word, my expression of contempt for Bush, at once caused the relaxation of a certain tension I hadn’t even been aware of, as if they suddenly went, “All right, these two are some of the good guys.”

Some of my prejudices were challenged, others reinforced.  For an example of the latter, as we drove through a considerable part of Jaurez, I kept waiting to see a part of the city that didn’t cry out: The poor live here.  I didn’t see one.  Poor walls, run-down looking small housing, signs of neglect were in each of the many neighborhoods we passed through, making me feel like a privileged American.  Which I am, in fact; that it was my comparative poverty that drove me to make this health-care choice does nothing to change my comparative wealth relative to so many of those I passed.  While I curse the American health-care system, which caters to those better off than I; I am also aware that, by the standards of most of the world, I am a wealthy man.  This is something I knew before, but now it hits me in face.  It is humbling.

Walking into the mall the night before surgery, we saw a teen-age couple sneak into a spot underneath a stairway to make out in semi privacy.  My biggest regret of the trip is that I didn’t grab Reesa and go make out in the spot next to them; thought of it just too late.

For those who are as shallow as I enjoy watching people, I have two remarks:  one, the Mexican girls (and most of the women) in the mall wear too much makeup, and, two, Mexican men (and many of the boys) are beautiful.  I mean, damn! I want to look like that.  The only drawback is how many of them seem to know how good-looking they are.

Other differences between a mall in the USA and the one in Jaurez had to be looked for.  The first is that there are more whole families there, and they seemed to my eye to be really happy to be out together, and having fun.  The second is a women’s fashion issue the only my practiced eye would have picked up: there were a good number of low-cut dresses and tops, and a quite reasonable number of extremely short skirts and shorts; but no bare midriffs, which is odd considering the heat, and I assume to be cultural.

As Reesa has said, the hospital is clean and modern, the room by far the nicest I’ve ever seen.  I felt shame at being in a foreign country unable to speak the language, but I saw no signs of impatience or annoyance at it from the staff or those associated with me.  I didn’t run into any other American patients in the hotel, but no doubt there were some.

They came and prepped me for surgery, which involved making me wear the same hospital gown every other hospital makes you wear, sticking an IV in my hand, a consultation with a very pleasant and professional anesthesiologist, and a transfer on my back onto a gurney.  There was little waiting; little time for my nervousness to get to the panic point, if it wanted to.  Down the elevator, reassuring smiles, and into the operating theater with all of those lights (not yet lit) staring down at me.  Here we go.

Categories
Health Reesa Steve travel

Off to Mexico

So, it all started with a standard STD check, when the doctor said, “How long have you had that hernia?” Never at a loss for words, I instantly shot back, “That what?” “Hernia,” he said, apparently unphased by my wit. “That’s a hernia.”

This was, you understand, two days before I left for Vegas to move my stuff.

So, anyway, here we are today, and Reesa and I are off to Mexico, the land of mescal, mariachi bands, and $3000 (as opposed to $10,000 or $15,000) hernia surgery. I should be back in a few days, if all goes well. Keep the fires burning, and say many witty things while I’m gone.

Categories
Health Politics Steve

Though this be method, yet there is madness in't

It fascinates me, in reading over the discussion of “a fundamental human right,” how often various people make arguments of the form, “If there is a fundamental right to freedom from pain, that means that any doctor has to stop whatever he’s doing and treat this person’s pain, right now.” Or, “That means every individual has the right to treatment from the best specialist there is, no matter where he is or what he’s doing.”

I’m having a lot of trouble wrapping my head around this way of thinking. One of the rights few would deny is the right to life, yet no one claims this means Joe Supercop of Sydney, Australia, has to fly to Hamtramck, Mi, because Vicki Victim is having a knife pointed at her. Hell, next time you’re in the hosptial, look at the “patient’s bill of rights” they have posted. You might read something like this: “If you have severe pain, an injury, or sudden illness that makes you believe that your health is in serious danger, you have the right to be screened and stabilized using emergency services. These services should be provided whenever and wherever you need them, without the need to wait for authorization and without any financial penalty.” Does this mean that the hospital is obliged to fly in Dr. Flash Gordon from San Fransisco because he is especially skilled in ER work?

I’m not, here, concerned so much with the particulars of medical rights as I am with the bizarre method these people are using: to claim that one has a right to certain services is to claim one can demand those services from some particular individual?

The scary possibility is that these people, following the logic of their argument, believe no one has any right to anything ever. The more likely possibility is that they don’t agree that pain relief is or ought to be a fundamental right, and have run out of arguments supporting their position. I really hope it’s the latter.