Going to the Doctor in Israel

Well... my right foot started hurting a bit more than a week ago. Like any other stubborn human being, I told myself to ignore it. It's not like my knees are hurting, foot pain will go away - I don't need to rest. Two morning jogs later, and it got a lot worse. It hurt to do anything, at all. Having a job where I am always on my feet did not make anything better.

After some good old Google research I decided that I probably had a small stress fracture in my foot. But without an x-ray of any sort I couldn't really be sure what it was.

So what was a girl to do? After a couple days I came to my senses and decided to ask my program leader to coordinate for me a visit to a doctor here in Israel. For me this was a last resort - I hate more than anything to be restricted and I knew a doctor would probably tell me I needed to be off my feet and rest. Not knowing when the next time I will be able to go for a leisurely walk or jog is a terrible feeling. I can't imagine how people who are wheelchair-bound cope.

But the worst part is not working for two days. I had just gotten over my streak of boredom after not working for more than a month. This was the last thing I wanted.

Now, for the nitty gritty on the actual visit:

I had a 12:30 p.m. appointment with a Dr. Sergei. My bus to the clinic was running about 10 minutes late so in turn I was a few minutes late to my appointment. To the clinic in I walked and was immediately unsure of what to do. All instructive lettering was in Hebrew with the exception of a poster on the wall advertising for some kind of prescription drug.

Immediately I turned to the most maternal-looking person in the room and asked her if she spoke English. She told me I needed to get a ticket (and helped me get one since the machine was all in Hebrew) and then to wait until they called my number.

If you have an appointment you shouldn't have to take a number... what's the point of having an appointment?

About 10 minutes later my number was called. "Do you speak English," I asked the woman at the reception desk. She told me there is a special clinic at another location where they treat English speakers and that I was in the wrong place but that if I waited 20 minutes they would send for a doctor from said other clinic. This did not seem right to me. I felt a little segregated for some reason... I still haven't fully deciphered the emotion.

So I go reclaim my chair in the waiting area and about 30 minutes later the woman calls me back. She pulls my name back up in the computer database and goes, "It looks like you have an appointment at 12:30 p.m." I thought to myself, DUH woman! But instead what came out was, "Yes, it is with Dr. Sergei, an orthopedist, for my foot." I already told you this the first time I came to your desk! She replied, "You are an hour late, here, go to the waiting area for exam room four," and handed me another ticket. I wouldn't have been so late if I had been able to sign in for the appointment when I first arrived! Also.. looking back.. she never explained why I wasn't seeing the special doctor who she earlier had said was coming specially for me.

Anyway... I waited another 15 minutes to see the doctor who ended up not being Dr. Sergei. Dr. Galina is an Israeli woman probably in her 60s with a slightly rough tone to her voice. There is not much else I have to say about her. We spent all of five minutes together. She wrote me two prescriptions- one for an ointment and another for anti-inflammatory pills. She also told me to rest for three days and if the problem persists to come back. She did not provide any sort of diagnosis or attempt to determine with me the cause.

Later when I went to the pharmacy I had to get yet another number from a machine to wait in line. Today I felt like I was literally just a number all day...

All in all, as a foreigner in a country where you do not speak the official language, I do not recommend visiting the doctor alone (or at all if avoidable). The visit was a lot more stressful than it needed to be. But at least I am well prepared in case there is a next time!

(As I write this post the affected foot has't made contact with the ground for about four hours. I'm not exactly sure how showering is going to work, but I do love a good challenge ;)