Just another day in Bratislava...

Dnes je voľby!!!

Ok, so it's not just another day in Bratislava (and all around Slovakia), today there is an election! The campaigning has been going on since maybe December? But it wasn't until February that I realized that the [somewhat boring-looking] posters around the city are political advertisements. I can't say much about the event besides that...I've heard that there's one very popular party that nobody likes much anyway, and people seem generally pessimistic about the situation. One advantage of having these posters up for so long: I've managed to read one of the slogans (thanks to Erik one time telling me that "viac" means "more," and Simona's skvele Slovak lesson handouts that included the word "práce" in several useful different forms..it has to do with "work" and "jobs") The slogan is: pre viac práce na Slovensku.  Can you make a good translation guess for yourself?  Now I just wonder if people who happen to hear me faintly whispering the slogan every time I see a SDKU poster think that I really believe in this political party's promises.   I was also able to read a word scratched into the forehead of a candidate on another poster the other day, but I didn't dare whisper it to myself, and I won't write it here either as it is much too vulgar.

Changing the subject now... I was ill a few weeks ago, and got to have my first "I need to see a doctor in a different culture" experience. The way it works here is that if you need to skip work because you're ill then you have to take a slip from your employer and get it stamped when you visit the doctor. Even if you know how to self medicate, or you're sure that all you need is to lie in bed and drink tea for a day, you still have to visit the doctor to get the slip stamped, otherwise you have to take a "holiday day" from work. These "doctor days" are good for one day, but if you're really sick then the doctor will write you a note to stay home for whatever amount of time he deems sufficient to help you recover, and then you have to return to his office at the end of that time to get cleared to return to work. The insurance office gets a copy of this note (that includes your home address) and they are allowed to come check in on you to make sure that you're actually home resting and not taking a skiing vacation. Very fascinating!

Finding a doctor is another thing... I don't know how other people go about it, especially other foreigners..probably there are forums online for this stuff. Erik (my dear, helpful, and kind Erik) asked his doctor if she is willing to have me as her patient; they CAN say "no," but this lady, bless her, she said "yes" and that's how I got a doctor here. (Oh, you can also find private doctors here, but you have to pay them from your own pocket. I didn't pay anything directly to see this "state doctor" here- the insurance and such is just automatically taken out of my wages.)

Back to the original story.. So I was sick with a fever and couldn't go to work. Luckily it was Erik's day off, so we met in the city center and made our way together to the remote district of Bratislava (called Rača) where the doctor's office is. Keep in mind that Erik and I mostly only have public transportation available to us (besides when kind friends give us rides, which happens actually quite often, and we're very thankful for them :) ) But this sick day, we used public transportation. I felt like such a champ, a feverish American toughing it out on the elektricka! (Elektricka = the slow, flimsy, trains that go through the city) As we walked from the elektricka stop to the doctor's office, Erik tried to prepare me for the experience; warning me that his doctor maybe isn't the best doctor in the world (or in the city for that matter)..but you know, doctor's aren't paid so well here so you can understand if they're burnt out... Just as we were agreeing that we prefer the system with these adequate health care services and the peace of mind that it's free and available to everyone than a system that leaves people dying without a chance to have any health care, we approached the doctor's office. When I first saw the small, white building, complete with graffiti and bars over the windows, I thought it was a juvenile detention center and Erik was just making a little joke. No, it wasn't a joke; it was the thunder of reality crashing over my bleeding, left-leaning heart! Well, this is what I wanted, so I've resolved to stay optimistic, and just learn to adjust...
Once inside, we saw that our doctor was on holiday, so she left a note referring us to her colleague down the corridor. The catch was that her colleague only had afternoon hours that day, but we were there at 09:30. So we sat in the waiting room and discussed all our options of what to do, and eventually decided that it's best to wait it out and see the doctor at 12:30. But the waiting room wasn't so comfortable, so we walked to a nearby restaurant and ordered two cups of tea and sat by the warmest radiator for an hour or so. Finally, when the doctor arrived, we were the first to see him. (He also could've refused to treat me, as I'm foreign and not his patient, but I'm so grateful that he was willing!) Erik told him my symptoms, and I sat down and opened my mouth for him to look inside. It kind of bothered me that he didn't use a flashlight before saying the inside of my mouth was škaredy (which I know to mean "ugly").  He and his assistant sentenced me to 5 days resting at home and 2000mg per day of amoxicillin (plus probiotics and multivitamins). I wasn't thrilled, but I have to say they were very kind to look on an online dictionary for the word "Inflamed" to describe the stuff in the back of my throat to me.

Fast forward 5 days: I felt better, but my body wasn't coping very well with the huge dosage of antibiotics. I developed a rash (which I thought was spider bites- I searched all over my room for the culprit) and had diarrhea. We went back to the doctor the following Monday so I could be cleared to work (plus Erik was sick by then), and, naturally, I had to use the WC twice when we were there. To describe the "restroom facilities" at the doctor's office, I think there's no better word than primitive.  There was no toilet paper (Erik anticipated this and sent me with tissues), no soap, or paper towels/hand dryer, and (most amusing) it appeared as though someone had purposely removed the part of the faucet that would allow you to turn on the hot water!

If you're wondering, I do still like living here :)

This afternoon Erik and I are going to visit an indoor open market, purely for the cultural experience. I hope to post pictures soon...