Yesterday, we decided to go out for dinner. There is a large building, kind of like a mall, with a suppermarket on the 2nd floor and a bunch of smaller shops on the bottom floor. Also on the first floor is a bowling alley, a play area for kids (a bigger version of what one might find a Chuck-E-Cheese (without the video games) or McDonalds) and a cafeteria. We decided to go there because the food is inexpensive and the kids like the play area. The play area costs about $1/person for 30 minutes of play. The food cost about $17 for all six of us. The food is typical of a buffet style place: you can get mashed potatoes, rice with vegetables, cabbage rolls, boiled potatoes and various meats. One can also get a variety of salads. All in all, the food is okay.
The weird thing about last night was to meet other Americans there. We met two of our MTW team members and while looking for a table saw two church members with 3 other people. I went over and said "Hi" and was introduced to this American family from Nebraska. They are here in Ukraine visiting orphanages and helping where they can. Unfortunately for them, they are here during the hottest period of the summer. They told us they were on the 9th floor with no a/c or fans in Odessa so they went out and bought 3 fans. For some reason it was strange meeting other Americans and speaking English with them.
One more thing about the play area. Everytime we have taken the kids there (I think this was the 3rd or 4th time), the same lady is working. She seems to me to have a permanent scowl on her face and I cannot help but to think this would not be a fun job. Screaming kids, parents who are pushy and kids that don't listen when she calls them to come out. She has a megaphone to call the kids out but my observation is that they never come out the first time they are called. She always has to go in a 2nd time and call the same names. I always try to make sure that our kids come out right away and smile and say thank you to her. She always smiles back and says something about how polite they are. Maybe I need a megaphone at home.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
More Adventures of a Pregnant Woman
Monday, July 23
I went to see the doctor a week and a half ago. I was told she was on sick leave with a broken arm. They did not know when she would be back. My Mom (who is a doctor in Russia) had advised me to get registered, so I could get medical care in cases like this. She was right. But what should I do now? Later that week I talked to the lady from church who recommended the doctor, and she said she would call her to find out. The doctor was back this Monday. I went to see her, determined to do whatever I needed to get registered. She had me write an application and to go see the "chief doctor" of the clinic. The secretary wasn’t sure I could get registered because I am not a permanent resident or a citizen here. But she told me to go ahead and pay the registration fee ($20). I came back, and the chief doctor signed my application without any questions. Praise the Lord!!! I went back to let my doctor know, and she took me to another doctor who is in charge of registering pregnant women. That doctor took me to a table in the hallway, pulled out a log book, wrote my name in three slots and told me to be there on Wednesday and to get appointment slips downstairs for 8:24 am, 8:36 am and 8:48 am. She said it very fast, and I had to ask her to repeat everything again to make sure I got it right. I wasn't really given a choice or asked if that would work with my schedule, I was just told to come at that time. I went downstairs to the registry to make an appointment and get the slip. No, I was told, you get it on the day of the appointment. Well, I just have to trust the system here (a scary thought!)
Wednesday, July 25.
This morning I woke up at 6 am worrying about missing the appointment. I left at 8 in the morning and was there at 8:20 am. There was a short line at the check-in desk. There were only two people in front of me, and I thought I was in good shape to make it to the doctor's room on time. However, my hopes slowly dissolved as I watched the registration lady chat away with another worker who was in the room with her. They seemed to not notice the growing line at the window. Finally, it was my turn. The registration lady was still talking. After about 30 seconds she turned to me, and I told her what I needed. She asked my name and registration address. I told her the address where we are renting now. She checked it on her computer. "You are not registered there!" she said. I guess they know more than what I give them credit for. I told her that the chief doctor allowed me to get medical care at the clinic. "Well, you just need to say that you live here without registration. I will write your appointment slips by hand." (?)
I hurried upstairs, since I was now 5 minutes late. The door was locked, and a lady waiting in line informed me that the doctor had to go out and take care of something. I sat down and drank some water (it was 97 yesterday with no air at the clinic). The registration doctor came about 5 minutes later, took my slips and called me in. The room had a familiar layout: it was about 11' X 8' with a window across the room from the door, two desks side by side by the window, a sink by the door and an examination chair. The doctor and a nurse were sitting at the desks. They asked me to see my application and the payment stamps which they criticized (my doc told me to tear the bottom of the page off, and this doctor did not like that. I told them I did what I had been told). Then they moved on to my residence registration questions. Have I registered with OVIR (local police department dealing with foreigners)? No, I have not registered yet, because it's too early (all foreigners have to get re-registered every six months, and we were told to do it as close to our 6-month mark as we could). They did not look very accommodating or friendly. I learned that it's better to say less here, because everything I say can and will be used against me. So, they entered my name and my temporary residence address, then my husband's name and age. Naturally they asked how we met, and I felt the ice was breaking. Everybody seems amazed at our story, but I know it was only the Lord who could put us together. The doctor then started asking me questions about my medical history, and I pulled out a sheet that I had printed out the night before with all my vaccinations and previous pregnancies. The doctor studied the paper for a few seconds. "I wish every woman came as prepared as you," she said, and I knew the conversation had turned. We talked a little about our church here, about homeschooling -- it's a shock for most people here. I knew we did not have much time, so I mostly tried to be friendly and to answer their questions as concisely as I could. The nurse measured my blood pressure and asked me to go to the scale. It was a floor scale with a moving arrow. "What does it say?" I looked at the bright red numbers at the top, "One hundred and …" They both laughed. I could not figure out what was so funny. The nurse came over. "There, the black number." I guess they needed kilograms, not pounds. At the end the nurse was giving me instructions about bloodwork and urine samples (my doctor asked me not to mentioned that I had done it already). Meanwhile, the doctor went out and brought another patient in. When the nurse was finished with me, I got up and almost bumped into the woman patient who was ready for her pelvic exam on the exam table. There was no sheet or any other covering.
I think now I am supposed to go see my doctor again. I have no idea when or if she wants to see me. Most medical workers here ooze indifference. I am getting tired of this socialized medicine.
I went to see the doctor a week and a half ago. I was told she was on sick leave with a broken arm. They did not know when she would be back. My Mom (who is a doctor in Russia) had advised me to get registered, so I could get medical care in cases like this. She was right. But what should I do now? Later that week I talked to the lady from church who recommended the doctor, and she said she would call her to find out. The doctor was back this Monday. I went to see her, determined to do whatever I needed to get registered. She had me write an application and to go see the "chief doctor" of the clinic. The secretary wasn’t sure I could get registered because I am not a permanent resident or a citizen here. But she told me to go ahead and pay the registration fee ($20). I came back, and the chief doctor signed my application without any questions. Praise the Lord!!! I went back to let my doctor know, and she took me to another doctor who is in charge of registering pregnant women. That doctor took me to a table in the hallway, pulled out a log book, wrote my name in three slots and told me to be there on Wednesday and to get appointment slips downstairs for 8:24 am, 8:36 am and 8:48 am. She said it very fast, and I had to ask her to repeat everything again to make sure I got it right. I wasn't really given a choice or asked if that would work with my schedule, I was just told to come at that time. I went downstairs to the registry to make an appointment and get the slip. No, I was told, you get it on the day of the appointment. Well, I just have to trust the system here (a scary thought!)
Wednesday, July 25.
This morning I woke up at 6 am worrying about missing the appointment. I left at 8 in the morning and was there at 8:20 am. There was a short line at the check-in desk. There were only two people in front of me, and I thought I was in good shape to make it to the doctor's room on time. However, my hopes slowly dissolved as I watched the registration lady chat away with another worker who was in the room with her. They seemed to not notice the growing line at the window. Finally, it was my turn. The registration lady was still talking. After about 30 seconds she turned to me, and I told her what I needed. She asked my name and registration address. I told her the address where we are renting now. She checked it on her computer. "You are not registered there!" she said. I guess they know more than what I give them credit for. I told her that the chief doctor allowed me to get medical care at the clinic. "Well, you just need to say that you live here without registration. I will write your appointment slips by hand." (?)
I hurried upstairs, since I was now 5 minutes late. The door was locked, and a lady waiting in line informed me that the doctor had to go out and take care of something. I sat down and drank some water (it was 97 yesterday with no air at the clinic). The registration doctor came about 5 minutes later, took my slips and called me in. The room had a familiar layout: it was about 11' X 8' with a window across the room from the door, two desks side by side by the window, a sink by the door and an examination chair. The doctor and a nurse were sitting at the desks. They asked me to see my application and the payment stamps which they criticized (my doc told me to tear the bottom of the page off, and this doctor did not like that. I told them I did what I had been told). Then they moved on to my residence registration questions. Have I registered with OVIR (local police department dealing with foreigners)? No, I have not registered yet, because it's too early (all foreigners have to get re-registered every six months, and we were told to do it as close to our 6-month mark as we could). They did not look very accommodating or friendly. I learned that it's better to say less here, because everything I say can and will be used against me. So, they entered my name and my temporary residence address, then my husband's name and age. Naturally they asked how we met, and I felt the ice was breaking. Everybody seems amazed at our story, but I know it was only the Lord who could put us together. The doctor then started asking me questions about my medical history, and I pulled out a sheet that I had printed out the night before with all my vaccinations and previous pregnancies. The doctor studied the paper for a few seconds. "I wish every woman came as prepared as you," she said, and I knew the conversation had turned. We talked a little about our church here, about homeschooling -- it's a shock for most people here. I knew we did not have much time, so I mostly tried to be friendly and to answer their questions as concisely as I could. The nurse measured my blood pressure and asked me to go to the scale. It was a floor scale with a moving arrow. "What does it say?" I looked at the bright red numbers at the top, "One hundred and …" They both laughed. I could not figure out what was so funny. The nurse came over. "There, the black number." I guess they needed kilograms, not pounds. At the end the nurse was giving me instructions about bloodwork and urine samples (my doctor asked me not to mentioned that I had done it already). Meanwhile, the doctor went out and brought another patient in. When the nurse was finished with me, I got up and almost bumped into the woman patient who was ready for her pelvic exam on the exam table. There was no sheet or any other covering.
I think now I am supposed to go see my doctor again. I have no idea when or if she wants to see me. Most medical workers here ooze indifference. I am getting tired of this socialized medicine.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Anna's Birthday
Last weekend we had a party for Anna. We had invited a clown (the youth leader from our church here), and fun was had by all. Anna's favorite part was "the clown." We enjoyed pizzas and cake and ice cream and some good company. Here are some pictures.
Just in case you were wondering: Timmy is the one without the hat. The boy with the hat is his friend. They could pass for twins: born within 4 weeks of each other, they have the same hair and eye color and look very much alike.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Staying Cool in Kherson
This past week has been a challenge. We again have temperatures hovering above 95 F. Julia and the kids try to stay low and play in the living room, where our only air conditioner is located. The kids get sprayed with the hose outside. The last two nights have been the worst so far with humid air and no breeze. We wake up several times in a pool of sweat. We keep saying that we need to go to the store and get fans. However, when we think about a ride on a hot packed bus with no A/C, it's hard to get motivated. Some of the buses don't have windows that open only vents at the top. When the buses get packed to capacity it is down right miserable. Thankfully, yesterday the buses were not that crowded. Nadia and Jamie both got seats and there were still seats available when they got off.
Monday, July 16, 2007
A Visit with Friends
Natasha and Lesha, our friends from church, invited us to their summer cabin for a day. We had a blast. The kids had fun picking up and carrying 4 kittens, and we had a great time eating grape leaves (just like in Greek restaurants in the US), yummy salads and a locally-grown watermelon. The fellowship was even better, and we were able to encourage each other in faith.
After eyeing the hose for a while, Timmy finally gets his wish.
Anna got to water the tomatoes.
Natasha is showing us her garden.
No comment.
Friday, July 6, 2007
More Adventures of a Pregnant Woman in a Post-Soviet Country
July 2, 2007.
Today I attempted to finish whatever the doctor told me to do. I did my best to follow the instructions on urine sample and blood work. No food since last night. I had purchased two small containers for urine (I am sorry this is so descriptive), collected it at home and left at 7:20 am to be at the lab shortly before 8 am. If you have to get a urin
e sample here, you do it at home and bring it in. When I got to the clinic, I needed to get my blood work done first. The OB/GYN nurse had instructed me to be there promptly at 8 am, or the lab tech "will run out of glass containers." I also needed to buy my own poker for taking blood from my finger, a syringe, cotton and alcohol. Armed with these items, I waited in line. I had to go to two different rooms to get it done and to pay an equivalent of $1.20. The race was on. I went to the nose-ear-throat doctor and spent about 40 minutes waiting in line. Another tricky thing: pregnant women are a separate category of patients, and they get only a short window of seeing that particular specialist. I only had from 8 am till 9 am to get in, otherwise I would have to come another day. I got there about 8:20 am. At 8:55 am I ignored the line in front of me, poked my head in the door and asked if they were still taking pregnant women. We will call you, they said. They did, in about 5 minutes. The room was large, and there were three sets of desks with people around them. At the one closest to the door two women in white (nurses?) were chatting, at the farthest table a doctor was examining a man, and I was led to the two desks in the middle. There were two women there. 
They asked me my name, age, address, and then one with the round mirror on her forehead reached under a brown piece of cloth (brown from sterilization in a hot oven) and pulled out examining tools. After a brief exam I was told that my partition between my nostrils was crooked, and that my left nostril was larger than my right one. I was tempted to say that I would pick my right nostril more from then on to help correct the problem. I was happy to be done with this part of my day. Urine lab was next.
It was located on the first floor of the building next door. I walked in and saw a dark hallway with a room to the left. In the doorway to that room stood a table with about a dozen of jars of all sorts and sizes, all filled with yellow liquid. Two lab techs were working behind the table. There were two people in the hallway, busily unwrapping their samples. (Don't forget to take the lid off!) They slammed their jars on the table. I did the same. Should I come pick up the results? No, your doctor will have them. Great! As I was leaving, I noticed another table -- it had glass jars filled with brown substance… Yuck!
Now on to see the OB/GYN doctor again. As I expected, this visit was not very productive. She again asked me about registration, and I asked her to explain to me what it was. If I get registered, I have to prepay to a hospital, but I will also get some financial subsidy from the government. I told her I would try to find out if I qualified. I think she is a little concerned that if I don't do it the usual way, I might have difficulties later if I decide to deliver here. Come back when you have all your results, she said. I left them a box of chocolates as a thank-you (a common gesture of appreciation here).
I had only two more places on my list: another lab and the Diagnostic Center for an ultrasound. I hopped on a bus and was at the lab in about 25 minutes. Finally, there was a place that gave instructions on a piece of paper nailed to the door. "1) Pay in Room 1. 2) Get your blood drawn in room 2. 3) Get results in room 7." I like that. My bill was 110 grivnas or $22. After I paid, I only had 1 grivna left, just enough for one bus ride home. The lab was nice, and I was told to pick up the results on Thursday, except one, which will be ready next Monday. Great! Fasting was over. I had grabbed a pear and a bottle of water before I left home, and it was great to be able to eat again. I turned the corner to go home, but then decided I could walk 7-8 blocks to the Diagnostic Center to try to get my ultrasound done. I got there at 11 am. I spent close to an hour standing by a wall in a dark narrow corridor, surrounded by pregnant women who waited to get in. I felt kind of bad, because most of them had made an appointment, and the Ultrasound doctor was running behind, and there I was along with a couple of other ladies who needed to get in, too, without an appointment. They took me ahead of some other ladies that had been there before I came. Did you bring a sheet or a towel to lie on? (They do not change the sheet on the patient's table.) I did -- I had seen those signs on Ultrasound rooms. The doctor was looking at the only monitor and dictating information to a nurse who was quickly typing it in. Everything looked good to the doctor (I couldn't see anything since there was no second monitor for the mom). They told me to get blood work done in 2 weeks and to go see a genetics specialist. Don't ask me why -- I think this is the latest fad there. I told them I had had some bloodwork done today. They looked at my receipt. "No, one test will not work, it's too early. Call them and cancel the test. Tell them to hold your money and that you will come next Monday." Sigh. I left and knocked on the door across the hall -- the genetics doctor. A lady in scrubs came out, and I told her that I needed to make an appointment and what the Ultrasound doctor told me about my blood tests. She confirmed that it was too early for one test and told me I needed yet another test. Yes, make an appointment to see the genetics doctor in two weeks when you have all your results. Make sure you come for another ultrasound right before you see the doctor -- we are looking for a particular thing at a particular gestation age.
Well, I was done for today! I came home at 12:20 pm tired and hungry. I did call the lab and canceled the one test (I was surprised they were very nice over the phone). Tomorrow I have to take another urine sample in. Being pregnant here is a full-time job!
Pictures: (top) the clinic where my OB/GYN doctor is located; (bottom) inside the clinic.
Today I attempted to finish whatever the doctor told me to do. I did my best to follow the instructions on urine sample and blood work. No food since last night. I had purchased two small containers for urine (I am sorry this is so descriptive), collected it at home and left at 7:20 am to be at the lab shortly before 8 am. If you have to get a urin
e sample here, you do it at home and bring it in. When I got to the clinic, I needed to get my blood work done first. The OB/GYN nurse had instructed me to be there promptly at 8 am, or the lab tech "will run out of glass containers." I also needed to buy my own poker for taking blood from my finger, a syringe, cotton and alcohol. Armed with these items, I waited in line. I had to go to two different rooms to get it done and to pay an equivalent of $1.20. The race was on. I went to the nose-ear-throat doctor and spent about 40 minutes waiting in line. Another tricky thing: pregnant women are a separate category of patients, and they get only a short window of seeing that particular specialist. I only had from 8 am till 9 am to get in, otherwise I would have to come another day. I got there about 8:20 am. At 8:55 am I ignored the line in front of me, poked my head in the door and asked if they were still taking pregnant women. We will call you, they said. They did, in about 5 minutes. The room was large, and there were three sets of desks with people around them. At the one closest to the door two women in white (nurses?) were chatting, at the farthest table a doctor was examining a man, and I was led to the two desks in the middle. There were two women there. 
They asked me my name, age, address, and then one with the round mirror on her forehead reached under a brown piece of cloth (brown from sterilization in a hot oven) and pulled out examining tools. After a brief exam I was told that my partition between my nostrils was crooked, and that my left nostril was larger than my right one. I was tempted to say that I would pick my right nostril more from then on to help correct the problem. I was happy to be done with this part of my day. Urine lab was next.It was located on the first floor of the building next door. I walked in and saw a dark hallway with a room to the left. In the doorway to that room stood a table with about a dozen of jars of all sorts and sizes, all filled with yellow liquid. Two lab techs were working behind the table. There were two people in the hallway, busily unwrapping their samples. (Don't forget to take the lid off!) They slammed their jars on the table. I did the same. Should I come pick up the results? No, your doctor will have them. Great! As I was leaving, I noticed another table -- it had glass jars filled with brown substance… Yuck!
Now on to see the OB/GYN doctor again. As I expected, this visit was not very productive. She again asked me about registration, and I asked her to explain to me what it was. If I get registered, I have to prepay to a hospital, but I will also get some financial subsidy from the government. I told her I would try to find out if I qualified. I think she is a little concerned that if I don't do it the usual way, I might have difficulties later if I decide to deliver here. Come back when you have all your results, she said. I left them a box of chocolates as a thank-you (a common gesture of appreciation here).
I had only two more places on my list: another lab and the Diagnostic Center for an ultrasound. I hopped on a bus and was at the lab in about 25 minutes. Finally, there was a place that gave instructions on a piece of paper nailed to the door. "1) Pay in Room 1. 2) Get your blood drawn in room 2. 3) Get results in room 7." I like that. My bill was 110 grivnas or $22. After I paid, I only had 1 grivna left, just enough for one bus ride home. The lab was nice, and I was told to pick up the results on Thursday, except one, which will be ready next Monday. Great! Fasting was over. I had grabbed a pear and a bottle of water before I left home, and it was great to be able to eat again. I turned the corner to go home, but then decided I could walk 7-8 blocks to the Diagnostic Center to try to get my ultrasound done. I got there at 11 am. I spent close to an hour standing by a wall in a dark narrow corridor, surrounded by pregnant women who waited to get in. I felt kind of bad, because most of them had made an appointment, and the Ultrasound doctor was running behind, and there I was along with a couple of other ladies who needed to get in, too, without an appointment. They took me ahead of some other ladies that had been there before I came. Did you bring a sheet or a towel to lie on? (They do not change the sheet on the patient's table.) I did -- I had seen those signs on Ultrasound rooms. The doctor was looking at the only monitor and dictating information to a nurse who was quickly typing it in. Everything looked good to the doctor (I couldn't see anything since there was no second monitor for the mom). They told me to get blood work done in 2 weeks and to go see a genetics specialist. Don't ask me why -- I think this is the latest fad there. I told them I had had some bloodwork done today. They looked at my receipt. "No, one test will not work, it's too early. Call them and cancel the test. Tell them to hold your money and that you will come next Monday." Sigh. I left and knocked on the door across the hall -- the genetics doctor. A lady in scrubs came out, and I told her that I needed to make an appointment and what the Ultrasound doctor told me about my blood tests. She confirmed that it was too early for one test and told me I needed yet another test. Yes, make an appointment to see the genetics doctor in two weeks when you have all your results. Make sure you come for another ultrasound right before you see the doctor -- we are looking for a particular thing at a particular gestation age.
Well, I was done for today! I came home at 12:20 pm tired and hungry. I did call the lab and canceled the one test (I was surprised they were very nice over the phone). Tomorrow I have to take another urine sample in. Being pregnant here is a full-time job!
Pictures: (top) the clinic where my OB/GYN doctor is located; (bottom) inside the clinic.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
4th of July Picnic
Melinda, Cindie, Jamie and Mel 
Cindie and Melinda
Kids and Cotton Candy
Anna by the Tank
Nadia displaying Eifel Tower
Anna enjoying her ride
At a park near our house Monday, July 2, 2007
Exciting News
We found out earlier this month that Julia is pregnant. We are all excited about this and cannot wait for the baby to be born. The due date is February 8, 2008. Julia is going to try to keep up with and write about her adventures of being pregnant in Ukraine. Here is the first installment.
June 25, 2007
A church member recommended an OB/GYN doctor, and I went to see her on a Monday morning. My teammate, Melinda, kindly offered to accompany me.
Before I proceed, I will explain how socialized medicine works or used to work in the Soviet block. Every month government deducted money from every worker's salary to go toward socialized medicine. From that pool money was distributed to every clinic and hospital, and to every doctor, nurse and nurse assistant. It was also used to fund research. So, every citizen could theoretically receive medical care "for free." Great idea, but it didn't work very well. First, the money was not distributed evenly. And since all politicians lived in Moscow, the capital naturally got the lion's share of funding. Smaller cities and towns received enough to get by. Secondly, patients lost their rights to choose their doctor. You were assigned to a clinic according to where you lived. If you needed medical help, you would go to your "therapist" or general practice doctor that oversaw your particular location. If you needed to go see a specialist, your therapist would write a referral. Appointments are generally not taken, so you just have to find out when your doctor is in the office, go there, wait in line, and be seen.
Back to June 25. The doctor's office was on the second floor. We waited about 20 minutes. Two blond women in their 50s in white gowns sat across a table. They both looked at me. Which one was the doctor? I started talking and mentioned the lady who sent me (since I am not a Ukrainian citizen and am not registered here, this doctor was doing me a favor). One of the women spoke up and asked me what I wanted, and I said that I was pregnant and needed to see a doctor. "Do you want to be registered for your pregnancy?" she asked. I have no idea what it means. "What hospital are you going to?" I said I was not sure, possibly, in Kiev. "Well, should we get you registered or not? It would involve going to the director of the clinic and writing an application and bringing other paperwork." I am lost. OK, she said, you can think about it. Meanwhile, go downstairs to the pharmacy and buy some gloves, so I can do an exam. Finally something I can understand. I came back, and of course there is a line. Melinda told me just to go ahead and go in, since I already stood in line. (Melinda has been here for close to 10 years). I busted in, and the doctor saw me and smiled. She was talking to another patient, but she motioned to the examining chair, "Get undressed!" No one looked like they were going to leave the room and give me some privacy, but I spotted a small corner with vertical blinds over it, and did what I had to do. Forget a robe. I am glad I have had 4 kids and lost all my shame in the delivery room. The exam was over soon. The doctor then gave me a stack of referrals and papers to get my blood work done (in two different locations), my urine sample, an ultrasound, an EKG, and also doctors to see: a dentist, an eye doctor and an ear-nose-throat doctor. Don't ask me why. I suppose, instead of having a physical at your OB/GYN, you have to go see all these doctors. I went and had my EKG done in 2 minutes, I also saw the dentist ("Where did you get your fillings?") and an eye doctor. I was able to do about a third of what I needed to do. No one took my blood pressure or weighed me.
June 25, 2007
A church member recommended an OB/GYN doctor, and I went to see her on a Monday morning. My teammate, Melinda, kindly offered to accompany me.
Before I proceed, I will explain how socialized medicine works or used to work in the Soviet block. Every month government deducted money from every worker's salary to go toward socialized medicine. From that pool money was distributed to every clinic and hospital, and to every doctor, nurse and nurse assistant. It was also used to fund research. So, every citizen could theoretically receive medical care "for free." Great idea, but it didn't work very well. First, the money was not distributed evenly. And since all politicians lived in Moscow, the capital naturally got the lion's share of funding. Smaller cities and towns received enough to get by. Secondly, patients lost their rights to choose their doctor. You were assigned to a clinic according to where you lived. If you needed medical help, you would go to your "therapist" or general practice doctor that oversaw your particular location. If you needed to go see a specialist, your therapist would write a referral. Appointments are generally not taken, so you just have to find out when your doctor is in the office, go there, wait in line, and be seen.
Back to June 25. The doctor's office was on the second floor. We waited about 20 minutes. Two blond women in their 50s in white gowns sat across a table. They both looked at me. Which one was the doctor? I started talking and mentioned the lady who sent me (since I am not a Ukrainian citizen and am not registered here, this doctor was doing me a favor). One of the women spoke up and asked me what I wanted, and I said that I was pregnant and needed to see a doctor. "Do you want to be registered for your pregnancy?" she asked. I have no idea what it means. "What hospital are you going to?" I said I was not sure, possibly, in Kiev. "Well, should we get you registered or not? It would involve going to the director of the clinic and writing an application and bringing other paperwork." I am lost. OK, she said, you can think about it. Meanwhile, go downstairs to the pharmacy and buy some gloves, so I can do an exam. Finally something I can understand. I came back, and of course there is a line. Melinda told me just to go ahead and go in, since I already stood in line. (Melinda has been here for close to 10 years). I busted in, and the doctor saw me and smiled. She was talking to another patient, but she motioned to the examining chair, "Get undressed!" No one looked like they were going to leave the room and give me some privacy, but I spotted a small corner with vertical blinds over it, and did what I had to do. Forget a robe. I am glad I have had 4 kids and lost all my shame in the delivery room. The exam was over soon. The doctor then gave me a stack of referrals and papers to get my blood work done (in two different locations), my urine sample, an ultrasound, an EKG, and also doctors to see: a dentist, an eye doctor and an ear-nose-throat doctor. Don't ask me why. I suppose, instead of having a physical at your OB/GYN, you have to go see all these doctors. I went and had my EKG done in 2 minutes, I also saw the dentist ("Where did you get your fillings?") and an eye doctor. I was able to do about a third of what I needed to do. No one took my blood pressure or weighed me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)