Showing posts with label blood tests. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blood tests. Show all posts

Friday, July 25, 2014

Been Busy~

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Lest anyone think that I have not been busy, thus ignoring my blogging regularly, it is untrue. Many of the things other than writing have been consuming my time. In addition to that, there hasn’t been much to inspire me to set the keyboard to type or even to put my headset on to speak to Dragon Naturally Speaking. The things that have been happening in my life have had questionable qualities as to whether they were worth writing about or not.

One day, as I was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book, someone rang the doorbell downstairs. When I answered it, all I heard was Hungarian. When I said I do not speak Hungarian, there was no English prompting me to open the door.

About five minutes later, our apartment door doorbell rang. Two men were standing there. They had ID tags hanging around their neck, but holding them up for inspection while saying something in Hungarian. For all I knew, they were Jehovah’s Witnesses; Mormons were ruled out due to their clothes. After saying I do not speak Hungarian yet again, I was ready to dismiss them and walk away. No, I did not want a super deal on Internet service, nor did I want to put a new roof on our apartment. Leave me alone!

Then one of them spoke in halting English. He told me that they were from the district office and were here to investigate our bed and breakfast. Any official in this country or anywhere I don’t speak the language, intimidates me. They spent over an hour asking questions, looking over our business corporation papers; all the time they were extremely pleasant. The end result was that even if our company has court ordered permission to rent out rooms, we never received direct permission from the district. The entire hour I sweat through this non-hostile investigation, while Ron was napping in the next room. I insisted he find a translator to accompany him to the district to get this cleared up on the following Monday. All through the weekend I mulled over and worried about the consequences; though the gentlemen here were extremely kind and considerate could we expect the same from their colleagues?

Prior to and continuing during this same week, I was in the middle of a battle with the university. The Dutch Department hired a new lector was to start in September. Due to the poor wages that lectors receive, the university tries to supplement it by providing housing. Their list of available housing list was depleted; no offerings were to be had. Instead the university housing department decided to offer him 50,000 forints to pay towards rent. It was their expectation that this was all he would have to pay for rent. However this is totally unrealistic in today’s real estate market.

The secretary in my department believed that since I had quit, my apartment would be available. She did not realize that we owned it with intentions to stay, while continuing to live in this apartment. I corrected her mistake, but also informed her of our other apartment. Then after conferring with the head of the Dutch Department, they gave the information to Arnold their new hire.

The Feri Place apartment more than appealed to Arnold. Our place easily rents for 85,000 forints. We have had multiple offers each time it becomes available as a long term rental. Looking through the advertisements on Facebook we can probably even get more. However, we have stayed with 85,000 forints for the last two years. The tenant has to pay their own utilities and the building fees, but we pay the water bill as well as the Wi-Fi.

Arnold realized this was an excellent deal, even more so after seeing the apartment. He saw the video on our website, but when we took him there to see it in person, he was ecstatic. He said he couldn’t wait to tell his friends. After showing them the video on our website, they said we probably only videotaped the good parts ignoring the bad. He couldn’t wait to tell them that there were only good parts. He wanted to move immediately, but of course that was not possible. He will move in on August 19.

The head of the housing department didn’t think it was ethical that I should collect rent for another lector when the university had been contributing to my rent in the past. I turned it over to the head of the Dutch Department to fight the battle, stating that I had given up; it was out of my hands. It finally worked out with all the papers signed. Arnold has signed his lease so we are good to go.

The deciding factor was when the Dutch Department called around to various apartments finding no one wanted to rent to the university. There were a couple of exceptions, but the apartments were so horrid that the head of the Dutch Department would not allow any of their employees to live in them.

Arnold will pay 35,000 forints plus utilities with common costs. The university will pay 50,000 forints. He recently sent me an email stating he was informed his contract can be extended six times bringing him to the year 2020; he continued to say this could be good news for our rental.

While all this was happening my doctor decides I need to go for my annual bloodwork and urine test. I had labored over this point for a couple of weeks when I finally decided to go July 1st. What I didn’t realize was that all medical facilities are closed on July 1st.  It’s Semmelweis day, apparently making this is a medical holiday. I had strategically planned for this day in particular, because it was Ron’s birthday. With my bloodwork out of the way I could celebrate worry-free when we had his beer party at the beer pub.

To prepare, I had abstained from all alcohol the entire weekend, I was religiously adherent to a diabetic diet, and even threw in 30 minutes of exercise each day. I was all set for bloodwork, but the best laid plans of mice and men went down the drain. It took me another two weeks to recapture the motivation to recreate the pre-bloodwork routine. Once the bloodwork was out of the way, it then took me another week plus before I went to the doctor for the results. It was a great relief when he said my tests came back like a normal healthy human being. There was no other discussion or anything else that needed a follow-up; he seemed to be perfectly happy with the results. We celebrated with beer that night.

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Friday, November 23, 2012

So Much for Accu-Chek

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The doctor wanted me to get a blood glucose monitor, which seemed a bit immature to me since I had not gone for the glucose tolerance test yet. I did it anyway, thinking, I should test randomly anyway in between the annual blood draws. It would be similar to having werewolf tendencies; you don’t want to wait for the full moon before you know for sure. If there were a home administered canine tolerance test, it could prevent some embarrassment later in the month. Random sugar testing could explain other behaviors.

The doctor and I had to negotiate when I would get this test done. He wanted me to go on Thursday, but I had to explain Thanksgiving to him twice. Initially, we agreed on Friday, until Thanksgiving night, when I realized that the dinner could very well alter the results by the next morning. Nix that idea. Monday is looking good. In the meanwhile, he is expecting me to test my sugar on a daily basis.

I bought the Accu-Chek machine upon the pharmacist’s recommendation shelling out over $50 when I really wanted the $15 model. She assured me there were instructions in English in the box. When I opened the kit, there were pamphlets in 47 world languages including Cherokee, but nothing in English. Thanks to the Internet, I was able to find what I needed in a downloadable PDF document.

According to the directions, after removing tape from the battery, it should turn in by pressing a button. Nothing! Taking the battery out and replacing it did nothing either. I had Ron return it to the store. He returned claiming you had to hold the button down longer to turn it on and yes there are directions in English in the box. Hunting through again, there they were: How to clean your machine. End of story! So much for the English instructions.

Conferring with the PDF document, I first need to insert the computer chip into the machine. This is followed by placing a test strip in and placing one drop of the Accu-Chek Control Solution on the test strip. This will make sure your machine is calibrated correctly before you do your first test. There was no Accu-Chek Control Solution included in the kit, creating another trip to the pharmacy, but with negative results. Nincs! We don’t sell that solution. Strange, you sell the machine, but not the control solution? Well, if they spoke English or I spoke Hungarian that would have been the question to ask.

Pharmacies 2, 3, and 4 had the same disastrous results. One of them did give me the phone number for the Accu-Chek company here in Hungary to call to find out more information. When our massage therapist arrived later today, I had him call for me. The company that supplies the machines to the pharmacies told him that they do not have a list of which pharmacies stock which of their products; therefore, they could not tell him where to buy the control solution. Is there a wonder why businesses come and go here?

A brainstorm hit! I called one of my students who was diagnosed with diabetes over a year ago and has since branded himself as the Hungarian poster child on diabetic information. No answer. Then I called the First Med Center, the clinic that caters to ex-pats. They would have a doctor call me back. Still uneducated, I fumed over this nonsense and waste of time.

The doctor from First Med called me back. It took some time for me to explain about the control solution, but finally she understood. She said with the new machines, it is not needed as the computer chip does the work. How queer that the directions mention the control solution right after they instruct you to insert the computer chip with each new box of testing strips. Okay, I surrender! Maybe the control solution is not needed.
My student called back. He uses a different machine, causing him to be clueless over my issue with the control solution. Our massage therapist called four more pharmacies. Not one had heard of this solution, though all of them sold the machine.

It seems I am totally out of control for now.

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Sunday, September 06, 2009

Kaszas comments...

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Well Kaszas, my surgery is Friday at 7:30 am. I am doing the best I can to push it into the dark recesses of my conscious thoughts taking one day at a time. The one positive thing I can say about all of this is that here in Hungary, you actually get to spend time with the doctor. In the US, they are in and out so fast, they look like they have super hero capabilities with the speed that they are able to come in and out of a room. As for the blood work, I have a black and blue mark the size of Rhode Island. If I could light it, it would make a fabulous laser show. Kaszas has left a new comment on your post "Another Medical Adventure": ...and were you safe? Oh I feel sorry for you. Thank God I am not familiar with similar practises abroad so there is no basis for comparison on my side. However the process you described matches my experiences with lab work pretty much! Though I wonder what the English lesson would be replaced by in Hungarian...

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Thursday, June 11, 2009

Bloody Hell

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I could have gone for my blood test results last night between 4 and 8pm, but waited for tonight so Laszlo could go with me. I needed someone to hold my hand, but more importantly, I did not want to get a sheet with results that I didn't understand, then have to wait to find someone to interpret them. The sheet was set on the counter and I had to sign for it. For one A4 sheet of paper, there was too much white space and not enough type. For what was on this sheet, all they needed was the prick of the finger blood. What did they do with the seven tubes they took, sell it to some African country? As I am staring at the paper, all I could see was "positv". My mind went reeling; I was waiting for Laszlo to give me sad looks, perhaps shed a tear and say he had something to tell me. He continues to talk to the woman, so my tension is building. Passing out would pass the time faster. When he brought me to, he could tell me the bad news and I could pass out again for real. He finally turns to me and says "The woman said your blood type is A Positive, so amongst Hungarians you are a commoner. Many of them have A Positive blood". In my harried state, I missed the A in front of the positive; really, I thought they forget to finish the senentence. He is A positive person. Gulp! It took me to this stage of my life to find out my blood type. A Positve. Somehow if fits my character, since I have been accused a million times of being Type A compulsive. Well, it is just in my blood, what can I say?

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Monday, June 08, 2009

Lab Rat in Medical Maze

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My friend Laszlo was kind enough to assist me with getting the lab work I needed to have done prior to surgery, so we met at 10:00 this morning to beat the rush. Appointments are unheard of, so imagine this scene. There is a pack of starving dogs, though regardless of their hunger, the alpha dog order biological trait is still ingrained in their nature. Suddenly, without warning, a fat juicy steak appears. Inherent instincts be damned, they all charge for the meat fighting off competitors with all means possible. When we arrive at the hospital, we have to return to the doctor's office to get the referrals for labs. Why he could not give them to me when I went the first time is anybody's guess. Outside the office is long bench, reminiscent of the bench outside of the principal's office in my elementary school. Sitting in order of our arrival, we are fourth in line. People are chummy and chatting amicably. Then the ominous music starts playing in our heads, something is about to happen...the door suddenly opens with the nurse making her first appearance of the morning. Vroom, the four waiting without any warning turns into a mob of twenty and the nurse is attacked from all sides deciphering all claims of "I was here first". An hour and half later, we get to see the doctor who really does not need to see me at all, but the nurse has to fill in empty fields on the computer to print out a half dozen pages or lab requests. The other nurse gives me to test tubes to fill with bodily fluids that need returning to some other place. I am told not to touch the tops of either. First task, find a men's room to carry out the task, but the one I find is a fraction the size of an airline toilet. Alone, I am trying to juggle two tubes, one with a blue cap, another cap less. Twisting the blue top does not produce any results, but pulling it off does, allowing the powder inside to fill the air like fairy dust. Opps! Logic led me to filling the capped one first, capping it and sticking it in my pocket while filling the second. This worked fine until I was finished and then tried to get myself back together in a presentable fashion. I had my shirt hanging out, so left my fly open until the tubes where turned in, to surreptitiously finish my project. Next was getting my blood drawn. For this we had to go to a different building, a block down the street. Waiting fifteen minutes was not a major problem, but when she started pulling out tubes with different color caps, I started worrying. Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Violet, and Grey. Was she drawing blood for labs or devising new torture for the rainbow aficionados? Seven tubes did not satisfy her, she still needed to prick my finger for yet a few more drops of life sustenance. After all of this, she handed me two of the tubes, with cap colors that I would never have chosen given the chance, to bring to yet another lab to be left for analysis. From here, we had to find the EKG lab, another thirty minute wait. It has been years since I have had one, so was confused when the tech put these large hair clip type things on my ankles and arms, but the gooey, sticky juice on my chest with leech like sucking devices. She told Laszlo that the results looked good. It seems all of those times I thought I was having a heart attack was just anxiety. The pile of papers the doctor's nurse gave us was finally dwindling down, but there was more fun and games to follow. Off to radiology for a chest x-ray with thirty more minutes of waiting, fifteen more to make sure the film was a good one, and we were good to go to the next test. I had to have a nose swab. We had to find the ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat) doctors. As the clock was approaching 12:00, too bad, they are closed now until 2:00, so we went for lunch. By 1:45, we were back and in line, not that it mattered much, but we missed their calling my name three times. They pronounced it Yam-mesh (James) Ree-on (Ryan). Neither one of us caught it, but a lovely young woman sitting next to us happened to see my paperwork and drew our attention to the fact. I was able to see a female doctor who has a certificate in English on her wall showing she was honored by the Lion's Club as a Lioness of Distinction within the Pride for her work with the deaf and blind.

After poking in my nose with expanding tweezers spreading each nostril to look like Carl Malden's appendage, she took a cotton swab that had to be a foot long and mined inside each hole until my brain started tickling. My throat was easy, but the ears, oh the ears, now here is a problem. She asked if I wanted my ears cleaned while I was there. Sure, an added service is like getting your car serviced and being asked if you want a free wash and wax while you are there.

The nurse took me to a sink, where she filled a syringe the circumference of a cola bottle with warm water and shot it in my ear. I thought for sure I would spout water out of my mouth like a fountain. She held a tray catching the debris that flushed out, which was kind of funny, since it did sound in my head like a sink draining. The sounds Laszlo was making were not pretty, arousing my curiosity. It seems my ears were as dirty as an archeological dig site. What came out looked like a non-filtered super long cigarillo.

Four hours later, we were finished with our medical adventure. I have to return in two days to get my blood test results, but all of the others will go directly to the doctor. Why I have to carry around bring my EKG report and retrieve the blood labs myself is a mystery that will go unexplained. Once this is accomplished, it is back to the doctor’s office to schedule an appointment for surgery. The life of an ex-pat is never filled with dull moments or experiences.

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