Long
story short, seven or eight years ago I needed a colonoscopy to
discover the source of an intestinal problem I was having. Whilst
probing about and eventually finding the source of my troubles: an
intestinal infection, they happened upon a malignant polyp and removed
it, a lucky coincidence for me. As I'm too young for such things to be
found, my doctor has since recommended I get a colonoscopy every five to
seven years. As it was at times interesting, I'm going to pass along
my resulting colonoscopy experience here in China.
In
order to begin the procedure, I was told to go to the hospital and make
an appointment. It was my first trip to a hospital in China, and like
the remainder of the country, was in relative chaos. People milled in
all directions, and after running the gauntlet that is the Chinese
registration process - from this counter to that window to pay the
registration fee, from this window to that booth to have blood drawn,
from this booth to that window to talk to a nurse, to that window to pay
for the blood test, to this booth to talk with someone else, to that
counter to have a doctor sign a piece of paper, to that window to
collect the blood sample, to go back to the doctor to have him sign the
blood sample, to pay another registration fee, to this window to
register – you get the picture, I held in my hand an appointment for the
following week to have a "mirror viewing scope viewing procedure", and
all for 274 RMB (Chinese dollars), which is roughly $50 US. (I've been
told a colonoscopy in the US costs between $2000 and $3000…)
Now,
the colonoscopy I had in the US was done while I was an in-patient, so I
don't know how much of the pre-procedure you're allowed to do at home.
All I know is the night before I was given a vial of fluid – literally
neon green – and told to drink heartily so that my insides would be
clean come the next morning. And early, early at three
o'clock I was given another taste of the foul tasting stuff just for
good measure. "We want your intestines squeaky clean" I remember the
nurse telling me. Not only did the stuff taste terrible, but its effect
was quite rough: by the time I would make it back to my bed I was
already running back to the bathroom, weakened stomach muscles quivering
and contracting involuntarily. What they gave me here in China was
also green, but not neon: it was a small package of leaves anonymously
wrapped in paper with instructions to brew like tea and drink the night
before, which I did. Though I am a supporter of herbal remedies, I can
objectively say the leaves were much gentler on my stomach and
intestines than the lethal neon green concoction, all the while inducing
the same result. I was never exhausted, in pain or in a hurry, and at
noon entered the Chinese hospital with intestines squeaky clean, once
again.
A
lot of people before coming to China have the impression that poverty
is like a blanket smothering life here. But the truth is, while poverty
is certainly omnipresent, there is also a significant portion of
society with the same amenities as Western countries, this disparity
supposedly being the largest in the world. (I once saw a BMW – 7 series
- beep at a donkey pulling a cart to get out of its way.) So, upon
seeing the room where I would have the procedure, I think most
Westerners would remark: "Well, it looks a little grungier than I'm
accustomed to, but the equipment seems state of the art.", which it
was. Unfortunately, while 274 RMB does pay for a colonoscopy, it does
not pay for anesthesia (which must be really expensive in the US
to make up for the cost difference). In the US I was happily
anesthetized and have no memories of the procedure. However, fully
awake in China, I have… uncomfortable memories. Truly painful only upon
a few occasions, the rest of the time I was just in general discomfort. A
plastic and metal tube being twisted, wedged, shoved, yanked, and
prodded along the full length of the large intestine is not exactly
Coronas on the beach.
No comments:
Post a Comment