Especially when knowing won't really make a difference.
About a month ago I went home from work feverish and weak. I took a quick shower to cool down. Had orange juice and a banana and then told Patty I'd just take a short nap.
By midnight I already had a sore throat. And the sniffles. And a bum stomach.
I was sick. Clearly. With all the tell tale signs of the flu.
The obvious question came to mind: Was this the dreaded A H1N1 flu?
Patty was understandably concerned. Media after all constantly told us that the disease was more dangerous for those with pre-existing conditions like diabetes (me), the young (Gabi and Bela) and the old (not me).
So she quickly separated me from Gabi and Bela. She gave me paracetamol for my fever, lozenges for my sore throat and lots of orange juice for my bum stomach.
First thing the following day, she brought me to the hospital emergency room.
The guard was obviously given strict instructions on how to deal with coughing and sneezing incoming patients. He didn't allow us entry and instead curtly pointed us to a solitary desk under a makeshift tent situated nearer the driveway and farther away from the hospital entrance.
Quickly donning a surgical mask, the male nurse greeted us with a blank stare, motioning for me to sit on the lone plastic chair conveniently placed a good foot away from the desk.
A barrage of questions ensued.
"Cold and cough?"
Yes.
Body aches?"
Yes.
"Sore throat?"
Yes.
"Diarrhea?"
No.
"Vomiting?"
No.
Then my temperature was taken.
"No fever," the verdict was read by the obviously relieved nurse who then scribbled his findings on a piece of paper which he then handed to me.
We were told to go to the Out Patient Department. We were now worthy enough to enter the hospital.
And so there in the OPD we had myself listed and waited for my turn. Which came almost an hour later. If I wasn't sick earlier I certainly was now after being made to toil in that hot, crowded, muggy waiting room.
The young doctor asked the same questions.
"Cold and cough?"
Yes.
Body aches?"
Yes.
"Sore throat?"
Yes.
"Diarrhea?"
No.
"Vomiting?"
No.
Again my temperature was taken. Again, no fever.
The doctor took out his prescription pad and jotted down "paracetamol" for my aches, "lozenges" for my sore throat and "lots of liquids" to prevent dehydration.
"That's it?" Patty asked.
"How do we know it's not swine flu?" she could not restrain herself anymore.
"Oh you'd have to go to RITM or East Ave to find out. We don't have the test facilities here."
Great. We spent more than an hour in the hospital only to be prescribed what we were already doing: paracetamol, lozenges and lots of liquids.
And no way was I going to waste another hour or so in another hospital just to be tested for a disease that was easily treatable. What good would that do? I already felt discriminated against just because I had flu symptoms. How more would I be treated if the test indeed confirmed I had swine flu?
Patty was already doing everything right. My flu was being treated. The kids were kept away and were given larger doses of vitamins.
We were not being irresponsible.
There was no more need to know.
Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
2 comments:
I'm just glad to hear that it was nothing more than the regular flu. I was sick a couple of weeks ago. I had colds, cough, but no fever as well. We all should take extra precaution. Glad you're feeling better.
Thanks, Bert.
Yup, it's best to take extra care. Gabi had his own bout with the flu over the weekend. He's better now. Thank God.
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