My body is rebelling against me. It seems that whenever I travel, especially to a different climate, I end up with some sort of cold, flu, sinus congestion thingy. It starts with the sniffles and ends up a hacking, congested cough and sore throat. Miserable.
Since my condition has been putting a damper on my tango activities, I decided it was time to seek a doctor before I feel any worse.
I was teensy bit concerned about getting medical treatment. You never know what the facilities and staff are going to be like in a foreign country. Hordes of sick people crowded into a dank, smelly waiting room. Quack doctors speaking broken English, prescribing unnecessary testing to cheat the unsuspecting foreigner. Impatient nurses with unwashed hands reusing thermometers without sanitizing first. Who knows. Argentina is a pretty modern city, but their economy is bad; so too may be their health care system.
I needn't have worried. Hospital Alemán (to us English speakers, that translates to German Hospital) came highly recommended by Sallycat in my favorite Buenos Aires guidebook Happy Tango. I also contacted my traveler's medical insurance carrier to see if they had any suggestions for health care providers. They, too, recommended Alemán. A third recommendation came from a friend on Facebook (thanks again Van), and Fernanda, mi profesora de español, confirmed this hospital was "muy bien." Score. I was going to the German Hospital. (Uh, the one in Argentina.)
Excellent choice. Alemán was located a few blocks from a Subte (subway) line that I could easily access from school. When I arrived, I was quickly signed in by a gentleman who spoke just enough English and was patient with my broken Spanish. We understood each other well enough to get me registered. My time spent in the bright waiting area was only a few minutes.
The doctor looked just like my brother-in-law, Mike, who is also a doctor. This doctor, however, spoke English with an Argentine accent, not a mild southern drawl like Dr. Mike, or even a German accent for that matter. He prescribed meds for my symptoms, recommended lots of rest and fluids and sent me on my way. The whole experience took about a half-hour and only cost 148 pesos (about $37 U.S.).
OK, so this excursion turned out to be a not-so-exciting-adventure, but, hopefully, it will help get me to a milonga tomorrow night.