Thursday 22 September 2016

Krankenhaus Adventure in Germany

So, you may be wondering what a Krankenhaus is. Well, krank means sick, and haus means house. Add the 'en' for plural and you have House of the Sick which is the German word for hospital. Gotta hand it to the Germans with their compound words and literal translations. This language is starting to grow on me.

Now, I didn't think I'd be the first one to visit our local hospital of the three of us, Elowyn being the most likely candidate with broken bones in the past and the like, but here I was this morning on their doorstop after a little bit of a panic this morning when my neon pink wax ear plug got stuck in my ear canal. Asked Steven to help dislodge it with tweezers, but alas, he was breaking it into pieces and inadvertently pushing it further in 'til I was asking "What?" after each sentence. 

As a teacher, I have often prayed for even 5 min of silence during the school day...just 5 minutes! But here I was temporarily deaf in one ear with memories of my younger sister's ear stuck with cotton resulting in some permanent hearing loss. So, since my new doc was on holiday, off I went to the krankenhaus. Luckily, it's only a 3 min walk, but I used google maps to find the entrance. Didn't even look like a hospital. The area around it was full of grass and flowers, fountains and lots of wooden benches; more like a convalescent home, or a spa.

I walked in and the elderly gentleman at the desk was fully engrossed in a Spiegel magazine. There was no one else around, no one, and it was almost 9am.

I decided to try out my German on him after looking up some key words like Ohr for ear. Armed with some pertinent vocabulary, a smattering of English and using props and hand gestures, I stated why I was there, pointed to my right ear, showed him the other offending neon pink earplugs and flashed him my new bonafide health card. 

No response. I was thinking that I might have to repeat the whole thing when he waved vaguely to his right and said something about an ambulance and then went back to the article in his magazine.

Ok, it wasn't an emergency, but I thought maybe I was at the wrong entrance. So I walk down a hall and don't see a soul, nor hear a thing. No announcements over a P.A, no code red, blue or pink. No patients, Nothing! 

I doubled back and started peering through open doors and windows, but seriously, no one was around. Finally, success! A woman in white suddenly turned a corner and I hurried over before she disappeared. She looked official and had a name tag so I repeated my spiel and she said in German that they don't look at nose, ear and throat patients at the hospital and that I must see Dr. Baumann instead. 

Dr. Baumann? I pulled out my phone, showed her the map of our town and asked her to show me where he was. For answer, she instead pointed down and said in English that I must go upstairs, through the cafeteria, through the garden, turn left, arrive at the cross (at this point she crossed her arms), and he's right there! I pointed up, "Upstairs?" "Nein", and she pointed down. "Oh, DOWNstairs? "Jawohl!" And with that she hurried away to take care of the invisible patients.

Found the stairs and followed the aroma of food past an enormous kitchen busy with chefs cooking at the cafeteria. No french fries in sight. Pasta, potatoes, stews and soups, salads and roasted chickens. Steaming hot. And there were people here! No patients, maybe visitors, or people looking to get a home cooked meal. 

Found a door to the outside and into the garden. It was an oasis of green. Fountains, running water over river stones, sleeping ducks, and trees, wildflowers and long ornamental grasses. Very peaceful. Chairs, tables and benches were scattered around inviting you to sit and rest, but I was on a mission to find Dr. Baumann, so off I hurried along one of the paths.

The wrong one apparently because when I came to a gate to the outside, it was locked. Deep sigh and backtracking til I came upon another path which led to a gate that was fully open. Out I went, pulling my iPhone from my bag to get my bearings. So for the next 10 minutes, I walked up, then down the street checking each building's postbox for a Dr. Baumann. 

I finally found the place and walked up two flights, then had to buzz to enter. I gave the receptionist the same story in my best Germlish, now told three times; she nodded, took my health card and gestured to a waiting room. There was only one other person, a man dressed head to toe in black leather with a motorcycle helmet by his side. I sat down and he stared at me. Was my neon pink ear plug visible? Other people started arriving one by one and each time they entered said "Gutentag" (Good day) to the whole room. We all said the same back, over and over again like greeting colleagues. I grabbed a Brigitte magazine to see the fall fashions and fall destinations to travel while the woman two seats from me was hacking up a lung.

I glanced at her and she wasn't covering her mouth! I stared at her, but still, she was hacking, except now into the magazine. Oh God! I looked down with horror at the magazine I was holding, envisioning other patients who had hacked their germs into the glossy fashion pages and hurriedly dropped it back on the table while moving three seats away from the offensive hacker. I searched my purse for Purell, but damn, it was in my other bag. Mental note to get one for all purses. Didn't have a scarf to cover my nose either from the hacker and was seriously contemplating stepping back out to the other room when my name was called, not that I heard, but everybody looked at me. Really?!? Like how did they know?

The receptionist called louder, "Frau Hille?" And then I got up in a hurry and went to the next room where the doctor shook my hand. Now, I'm not used to doctors shaking my hand, but here in Germany, everyone shakes hands when they meet you. At Elowyn's school, all the teenage kids shook her hand when introducing themselves. All of them. Unheard of in North America where you're more likely to get a "Hi" and that's about it. Even little kids are taught to shake hands in greeting and to say their name clearly. Good manners never go out of style. 

Anyway, In the doctor's office was a woman whose sole job was to record the appointment. She smiled and was typing away on a computer as I told the doctor why I was there. He looked at the pink ear plugs, said something in German which made the woman laugh and proceeded to look in my ear with a light. "Hmmmmm...ahhh...Mmmhmmm...then he stuck in a long pointy tweezer type instrument and started probing. At this point, I started to say the Hail Mary silently hoping that he A) didn't push it in further, B) puncture my ear drum. 

Well, none of the above happened and voilà, he dislodged the ear plug. Then he asked me if I wanted to keep it. Maybe like a trophy!? Anyway, I declined and started rambling on about what a relief it was to hear in that ear again and how I had to wear them because my man snored while the woman at the computer laughed and typed away.

I left happily, smiling even at the hacker in the waitingroom. 

So what did I learn: Their hospitals are only reserved for serious medical issues. Other things like being sick with colds, the flu or things like what happened to me are delegated to specialists outside the hospital environment. Waiting time in foc's office was 10 min max. Don't know about broken bones yet and hope not to find out.

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