When I was in Bern about a month ago helping my host family move into their second place of residence I was lucky enough to bring back with me to Germany a wonderful gift; a sinus infection. It's the sickest I think I've been since I had mono my junior year of college, and it wasn't pretty. Everything was in pain from the neck up. Sinuses inflamed, temples pounding, nose clogged, throat sore, you get the idea.
It's a Monday morning and my host father needs to go to the doctor anyway to get a flu shot- perfect. I already want someone to hold my hand while braving the German world since my Deutsch language skills are currently sub-par (hey, I've only been in class for 4 weeks. Lay off!) so this way he'd HAVE to go with me and help me along. Because the last thing you want when you're that sick is to be misunderstood, lost, and confused. I say that he had to go because he's been known to throw me under the bus a couple times... But it's egal (all the same) at this point. So he calls them first thing Monday morning and they don't have an actual appointment to give me, they just say to come in and they'll fit me in. If you've ever been sick or needed an appointment in a pinch this can be awesome if all goes quickly or the worst plan ever if you're stuck there without an end in sight. Of course mine was the latter. I just sat there, blowing my nose, staring at inanimate objects in a foggy, painful daze. After I don't even know how long because when you're in pain it feels like much longer, Olaf leaves for his shot and quickly returns about 10 minutes later to fetch me from the cluster eff that was the waiting room.
Luckily they made sure that I had an English-certified doctor so that we could actually speak about my ailments and I could understand what he was giving me. Here's where my boring story finally gets a little more entertaining. I walk in and the Arzt greets me. Friendly enough, he asks me what's wrong and gets straight to the point. Nothing like the doctors in America- he doesn't take my pulse, check my breathing, look into my ears, nose, throat, tonsils, take my temperature, nothing. It would have been easy because it was an office with desk, chairs, artwork and...the examining table? A little strange. All of it a little strange. He just asked my symptoms, noted that 'this poor girl' was obviously in pain, (yes, I was a poor girl in pain, I'm glad he was with me on that one) and decided to get me hopped up on antibiotics without running a single test or culture swab. Down to business, I can appreciate that. Well, I can appreciate it because the antibiotics worked like a charm. If they hadn't I would have been pissed that he didn't take the time to actually check me out and see what was wrong. I obviously just had some sort of infection though I guess.
His English medical terminology was pretty good, not that I asked him anything painfully specific and unknown to most native-English speakers, but still- well done. Also, there was no medical jacket that we are used to. Instead he sported a white Nike polo with a golden 'Swoosh' symbol across the left side of his chest. I think he had on white pants, too, so the outfit was still very doctor-esque. All in all I didn't die sooooo... success!
I noticed that too...that no one checks your vitals. It's just an "Ok take this" sort of thing.
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