“Reposo”

Which means rest, in Spanish, and I’ll tell you, I’m already sick of the word.  Yesterday I gave in to the fact that I wasn’t getting better, and went to the hospital with Mary, resigned to X-rays and whatever else.  What I did know was I needed relief from pain.

I’ll spare myself reliving the X-rays.  No matter how they tried to help–and they tried–even with a completely tilted table, the pain getting on was excruciating.  Diagnosis?  A fractured pelvis, in two places.  However. the word “fracture” is misleading.  These are minor fractures, but given they run north-south–the emergency room doctor showed me where they were–it means that every time I try to put weight on my right leg, I find out about them.  I now have anti-inflammatory medication, pain-killers if I need them (I don’t), a pair of crutches that baffle me, and the insistence by the emergency room doctor and the orthopedist–yes, one was there immediately–that “reposo” is the main treatment.  Unless, of course, the orthopedist said with a pretty straight face (we had established a certain camaraderie by that time), I would prefer surgery?  He’s very nice, doesn’t speak much English, but we got along perfectly well in Spanish where he was even polite enough to laugh at my jokes.

Recovery period?  Two to four weeks, during which time I have the choice of laying in bed or sitting in a chair, preferably my easy chair.  A minimum of two weeks of enforced immobility (more or less).  At the end of that time, I should be a raving lunatic.

Today Mary has to make a run into David, and she’s going to inquire about renting a wheel chair–my poor computer chair will never last.  I “pole” it around with a crutch–not the fastest method of transportation.

What at least relieved my gloom was the fact that my insurance, for an accident, pays for everything up to $300 and then some portion after that (I think 80%).  In the US, $300 might get you through the emergency room door.  Here, everything connected with the hospital yesterday–emergency room, 4 X-rays, doctors’ services, pain medication–was paid for without my having to lift a finger, and I assume I have more on the insurance.  I bought the medications, but only have to get the receipts back to the insurance office to get repaid.  And I should add that Mary turned in our receipts for our annual lab work; we’ll pick up our checks at the end of July (just the way the payment cycle goes).  I don’t know if I mentioned it, but we pay half AFTER the jubilado discount is deducted.  In my case, $31.

Why, in a poor, corrupt country like Panamá, is private medical service available at very reasonable cost and public care free to those in need, and in the US, there is a fight going on right now to get the bare minimum of health care available to all citizens?  Can someone tell me why the poorest countries in Latin America take care of their citizens to one extent or another and the US doesn’t?  Oh, I suppose that the US has better accessible health care than some countries–I’m sure that the US is probably better in that respect than Darfur.  

Meantime, here in poor Panamá, I was taken in immediately, questioned by the doctor about my problem, shunted over to X-ray where I didn’t have that long of a wait–maybe 20 minutes–then back to the doctor, IV’d for pain medication, visit with the orthopedist, whom I like very much–and then, unfortunately, an hour’s wait for prescriptions, my only complaint.  We did chase all over David to find crutches; there is a very nice medical supply place on the airport street next to Domino’s Pizza that has everything; Mary will check out rental wheel chairs there as a first stop.

Meantime, I have to do this “reposo” thing, and I am not happy.