heart disease and the chinese health system

Today I had my first encounter with the Chinese healthcare system. In order to get my visa extended, and in order for China to exert its endless bureaucracy and make a quick buck, I had to get a medical examination at this international health center. I was pretty annoyed about the distraction from my work (namely, watching a bootleg version of some f-ed up Spanish film…rough life, I know). However, since I’ve quickly learned that everything in China needs between 1-100 red stamps, off I went.

First of all, according to the center’s giant map of the world, China is apparently free from all infectious disease, including malaria, yellow fever, SARs, dengue, the works! Funny, that’s not what the CDC says.

Secondly, this medical exam was strangely more thorough than any US medical visit I’ve had in years. As I passed from room to room, I got the works: urine test, blood draw, eye exam, ultrasound (?), x-ray (?!), EKG (?!?!). The place was bizarre: entirely deserted, with a white-clad nurse silently sitting in each room. Each one would perform her procedure wordlessly, stamp a big red stamp on my form, and then point to the next door. It felt a little Alice and Wonderland-esque. Because my imagination tends towards the twisted, each time I passed through a door, I wondered what kind of bizarre, macabre scene lay within: jars of pickled brains, shrunken skulls, bloody carcasses?

Oh wait, no…that’s just the local grocery.

Actually, the blood draw was actually quite upsetting. Much to my parent’s chagrin, I’ve had a vasovagal reaction to getting blood drawn since I was about twelve. Namely, I sweat and pant and pass out. Not a pretty sight. I tried to warn the nurse what she was about to witness, but of course the meaning was lost in translation. Since we were both panicking, she called in a well-meaning “English-speaking” doctor. He held my hand as I lay there, reassuring me that “It is not a problem! We only use the needles once! One time use!” In my mind I was screaming: THIS IS NOT HELPING!

After surviving that debacle, it was time for the ECG.

“Expose your heart,” the nurse told me solemnly.
Um, I just met you- let’s not be hasty, I thought.
“OK,” I said.

And as I was lying in this tiny room in this deserted hospital, with a dozen electrodes clamped to my chest, I started thinking about all the things I’ve done since I’ve been in China that could possibly get me in trouble. Taking photos of the Mao statue? VPN-ing into YouTube and Facebook on a semi-regular basis? Googling the crap out of everything? Why am I such an idiot?! I started to sweat as I waited for the electricity to surge through my veins. I was sure I was going to die. Good-bye world, I thought, melodramatically—and what a way to die, half-naked on a lumpy bed in a Chinese exam room waiting---

“Your heart…,” the nurse said, pulling off the electrodes.
“What?” I asked incredulously. “Is it bad?”
“No. It’s slow. Your heart is slow.”

Amen sister. Tell me something I don't know.

grievances

[Unfortunately, my formerly objective healthcare experiences have taken a turn towards the personal, so from now on I'll also be blogging about my own experiences in & out of the doc's]

So how’s this for irony? The last few weeks, I’ve been working on conducting patient focus groups at all of our hospitals to get patients’ responses to the following question:

Have you ever left a visit with your medical oncologist or other care provider wishing you had more information?

What kinds of questions do you wish you would have asked?

Based on the results of this survey, we’re creating visual aids and notepads for patients so they can keep track of all the questions they want to ask during their appointments. Oftentimes, new (and returning) patients feel overwhelmed with information…and because the doctor is the “authority figure,” it’s so easy to nod your head and accept what they tell you…and forget to ask the questions nearest and dearest to your heart!

Last week, I was diagnosed with a relatively common, yet serious, women’s health condition that puts me at risk for a whole host of potentially serious health issues (infertility, diabetes, and cardiovascular disease being the heavy hitters) as well as more superficial problems (hair loss, weight gain, acne…you know, every woman’s worst nightmare!). Obviously, I was pretty upset about this information. I did my research online, checked out a bunch of useful forums, and was prepped to go with all my questions for my follow-up visit whereupon the doc would confirm my lab results.

Except that visit never came! The doc called me on Sat. morning to confirm that I might have this “kind of syndrome thing” (her words!) and then told me to call the office on Monday to get a prescription. No time for important questions like: Why this drug and not another? How do I prevent myself from getting diabetes? What kind of lifestyle changes can I make to help decrease my risk of health complications? Where can I get more information?

All things I need to know so that I can help myself prevent future painful and costly issues, placing more burden on me and our healthcare system. Instead, she just wanted to talk about how the office’s adjacent spa was running specials on facials. Then today, she wasn’t even in the office, so I got the message from a nurse from yet another doc that I would be put on one particular kind of med- no questions asked.

And now my only remaining question is:

WTF?!

Every year my (former) roommate and I throw a Seinfeld-esque Festivus party, and this sorry doc and her spa-pandering office definitely deserve a top spot on the Wall of Grievances!


(PS Yes, for all you fellow One Tree Hill fans, that is Haley James Scott at the top of the list- she is way too much of a goody-two-shoes/pancho-wearing has-been for our liking)

(Aren't our dresses fab? Takes ugly sweater parties to a whole new level)