hastana

People go to the hospital here when they are sick or injured. I'm not sure if there is such a thing as a regular doctor. It is a government hospital and your records are stored according to your national identity card - or kimlik number.

We hobbled up to the emergency room and a security welcomed me and tayze very sweetly. He guided us in, a doctor looked at Anne immediately and sent us up to orthopedic. The doctor looked at her leg, manipulated it some, and asked, "Does it hurt?" while Anne's face was clearly contorted with pain.

They sent her for x-rays and diagnosed her with arthritis.

Anne isn't a very good advocate for herself. I suppose no patient is, but she might be the worst. She thinks her leg pain is from her heart surgery nine months ago, but only vaguely mentioned her heart surgery. They asked her if she had been walking, she said no. Which maybe I just misunderstood. I'm not sure what she mentioned at all.

When the doctor said arthritis, I replied, "but arthritis doesn't happen all-of-the-sudden, does it?" He told me, "This is Turkish culture."

I have been told this by many people, that my Anne's pain is cultural. What a strange (and slightly maddening) thing to say. My Anne and Baba, along with most of Turkey's elderly population believe that a medicine or injection is the equivalent to a cure. So much so that doctors sometimes simply inject vitamin C into an ache or pain. The injection burns, and thus the patient has been treated and assumes he or she will now be better.

I tried to explain again how this just started after her trip here. How we can't walk more than 50 yards and she is crippled with pain, and he nodded a knowing smile.  "This is Turkish woman."

So what am I to conclude? Either my Anne's faking it or the Turkish medical system is wretched.

In the meantime, my Anne is "resting" on the couch. She is sitting there - alternating between holding her breath letting out all her wind, periodically grimacing.