Yeah, because one hospital is not really a good sample, so I decided to try out another one...
After a week of walking around as slow as a slug and being in pain most of the time, it was time for a little visit back to the doctor. Said doctor decided that really, the medication wasn't working and sent me to see a specialist, who was nice enough up to the point where he went "Well, I think the only way to find out where it's stuck and get it out is surgery". Oh. I don't like you so much anymore now.
(and also the consultation was in a room with this scale. Did he choose it because I fit in that? Thanks for the kind thought.)
As BIMC, my first hospital, was not properly equipped to perform the surgery, I had the pleasure to be admitted in Siloam Hospital in Kuta a couple of days ago. Huge, brand new, shiny hospital, with a book store and a mini-mart and plants in the hallways. Private room, even. (and once again, I am thanking my mom for pushing me into taking an insurance, given that my last bill turned out to be around 30 millions RP...about 3000 USD. I am now reaching a nice total of around 5000 USD over the last couple of weeks...)
As for the staff well...let's say that my poor Indonesian skills were up to their English skills. Which is lovely when you are half sedated, have tubes coming out from various parts of your body (no, no pictures of that) and are trying to explain that you are in f**king pain and need more medication. Or that you want to get the hell out of here and will they please get the doc to see you.
Anyway, the surgery went fine despite me being scared to death (there is a first for everything I suppose, even surgery, but far away from home with no mommy to hold your hand makes it a bit harder). Although Mommy Andrew did hold my hand a little bit and brought me magazines and stuff to make me feel better. It was once again two days of boredom, shit television (I thought TV at home was crap, wait until you see Indonesian TV programs...) and really REALLY nasty food. (and you would think that for that price they would make a bit of an effort, right???)
Snack. Yeah, like I am going to eat that.
Breakfast. Seriously?
Anyway, I am back home now, still not allowed in the water until next week, and all sorts of other fun prohibited too (no coffee, no drinking, etc). But despite still feeling rough, there is no better feeling than sleeping in your own bed, knowing your friends are next door, and waking up with no machine beeping or nurses pushing more crap into your blood.
Just so you know, I do not plan to visit a third hospital. Although I guess I could start a little collection of fancy hospital bracelets.
