Now people, I have to share my (not so nice) experience with the British health system. Unlucky for me I have had to interact with it since my arrival. Now, firstly you have to be 'registered' with a general practitioner in order to get any service. Having done that there is the 'appointment system'. If you are anything like me, you will have no reason to go to the doctors unless you are ill... that would be to have your issues addressed, right? Wrong! you have to navigate the billowing waters of getting that illusive appointment. It took me 3 weeks to get one.... and another week to see the phlebotomist for a blood test. Having come that far, you are informed that an appointment slot is for 10 minutes... if you need more time you have to state that when you are making the appointment. I kid you not! Having entered the 'holy of holies' of the doctor's office you now must hope that he or she is confident enough to treat you. I have been asked if I need a chaparone or what I thought was my malady with a view I suppose to being treated. If I knew what was wrong would I have needed the doctor? And it appears that the panacea is Ibroprophine... every complaint can thus be remedied.
The Dentist was no better. I found myself having to do a dental procedure of some magnitude and was told thereafter to take... you guessed it.... Ibroprophine. Needless to say, some 4 days later I was back in that office needing antibiotics for an infection.
The moral of the story? Be thankful for our 'Third World' doctors. The concept of a medical emergency seems unknown in this jurisdiction as well as having a clue as to how to properly diagnose, if at all. I will never take the health system at home for granted again. I know that it is nowhere close to being perfect but this experience was something else!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment