Skip to main content

Fun, Fun at the Doctor's Office in a Third World Country

First of all let me say that I've had some great doctors in Brazil whom I appreciated and who really work hard to treat the patients with kindness and respect.  They are few and far between, rarities in a land of public hospitals that often have no bandages or medicine.  They are fine jewels in a place where even private, paid clinics where patients get no respect.

Thursday I went in to get a sonogram at a paid clinic where I have been seen before. This time was a little different.  Each of the other visits where arranged by the doctor I had seen.  My doctor called the chief of operations at the sonogram/mammogram clinic and said basically, Put this person in line.  I'm sending them over right now and I want special treatment.  This time I was on my own and oh woe was me!

I know how these things work in Brazil.  I've stood in many a line and jumped places in a few - yes, when in Rome sometimes you have to know how to fight like a Greek wrestler to get your "rights."   Yes, I've done some pushing and shoving and even kicked a few doors (literally and figuratively).  So, I went by the clinic ahead of time, a week ahead of time and asked some basic questions about "scheduling" my sonogram.  I was told that they work on a order of arrival basis and to insure that I would be seen shortly in the morning I should arrive before 7 am when the doors of the clinic open. No problem, I got there around 6:30 am and was #4 arrivee! Woo Hoo, or so I thought.  When the doors actually opened it was every man and woman for themselves to grab a ticket with a number on it.  In all the rush I ended up with number 21!  I waited for an hour just to see a lady and say why I was there!   Oh, but how conniving these little secretary ladies can be.  When I asked how long I would be waiting I was told not to worry as there were only six others in line for what I needed so it would be that long.  Yeah, right!

I waited for two more hours after that when I was finally called to go back behind the swinging doors to a changing and then to another waiting room.  At least it was quieter!  Just as your hope begins to rise and you think you are closer to the end, you sit and sit and sit.  Seems other people with "emergencies" were being put in between those who had waited in line for a little number.  People whose doctors had made that special phone call?

Five hours I waited before it was my turn.  Complaining doesn't really help, except to make a person feel better, releasing some Yankee anger.  But I did complain every so kindly and reminded myself that next time I need to get my doctor to make the appointment as an "emergency."

The things we are not taught in missionary candidate school.


Popular posts from this blog

What's Next?

That seems to be the question every one asks us these days since we've arrived back in Sobradinho.  What's next?  What are you going to do now?  Where are you going?  A few people ask about how the boys are or things about my grandbabies or parents.  But not too many.  This week three people asked when I could start teaching English to their children again!

So what is next for The Athas in Brazil?  If you were able to attend one of our furlough meetings, hopefully you have some sort of idea.  If not, I'll try to give a brief answer to the big question.

Remember that trip we took all over interior Bahia back in the fall of 2017?  We visited over 200 communities over the course of about two weeks all within a few hours of where we live.  You can back to my post about it and review some of the details here...

Bahia Road Trip

Byron and I plan to begin evangelizing some of the nearest and neediest communities that we visited on our trip.  We came back with evangelism materials.  By…

Pressing On - Marriage on the Mission Field

That's us on our first furlough in 1998.  Byron was 33 and I was 32.  No gray hairs, no flab, two cute little MK's.  We'd been married for about 10 years and on the mission field for 4.  We stayed in Winston-Salem that year at one of the mission houses of Pleasant View Baptist Church.  We stayed for a whole year.  Byron worked some for a friend with a automotive repair shop that year and I stayed at home with William who was almost 4 and baby Dalton who turned two while we were there. We traveled together to visit all of our churches that year and made several big trips to Georgia and Maryland to visit with family.

Our first term of service on the mission field had been rough.   Language school, learning the ropes, figuring out how to deal with colleagues, two new babies, low finances.  Somehow we had made it through together.  We were okay and things were alright.  Now we were first term survivors on our way back.

Byron and I had met in Bible college.  We had some classes t…

Our Graduate

This Friday evening the youngest of our clan will finish up high school and move on to the next stage of his life - summer!  Oh, and then college and what not.

It's been an incredible eighteen years...

Greyson was always a cutie-pie with his blonde hair and blue eyes in a country where that was a rarity.  Word is that when he was around five or six years old on the island camp people would ask to take photos with him and that he would oblige for a small fee.  Cute and knew it?

For the most part he's been a joy, even though he doesn't comb his hair very often and making his bed doesn't come easy.  Perhaps his musical right sided brain could never deal with the structure of making a bed each day?  I'm hoping he'll learn at college!

As the last in the nest, Greyson enjoyed a few years of being an only child.  Byron and I got to take a long awaited road trip around southern Brazil with Greyson in tow.  We made some great memories and enjoy some sweet bonding moments...