This has been a typical fiasco from square one. Let me say at the outset that Taalan has not had an operation yet and probably won't, unless things change for the worse.
It all began several weeks ago when all of us caught a cold. For Taalan it developed into something more. He says it began when he was running across the grass and got clotheslined at waist height by some smooth wire that had been stretched across the edge of the field the day before, unbeknownst to him and his friends. Several days later he started complaining of pain in his stomach and was sick several times. I took him to the doctor at our local clinic, because the pain was quite sharp and located in the lower right side, near the appendix. The doctor also was concerned about appendicitis, so he ordered a blood test and a urine test. The results came back negative, and he decided that maybe Taalan had just eaten some contaminated food. He gave him a course of antibiotics and we returned home. After two days Taalan began to feel better and headed off to school. Since he was a little late he started running, only to have his stomach act up and immediately cause him to vomit. I decided that it was time to go to the big hospital in town to find out what was really wrong. I called the waiban [our handler, Mr. Zhu]. He wasn't on campus, so he asked the replacement waiban, Ms. Zheng, to take us into town. She did not even know the location of the hospital, though she had lived here for four years. She firmly declared, as we climbed into the taxi, that worms were the problem. We get them all the time in China, she said.
We registered at the hospital and were directed to the children's area, where a doctor examined Taalan. She was not happy with what she found. Consulting the phrase book, she told us it was appendicitis. We were sent upstairs, where another doctor concurred with the diagnosis. He said that Taalan needed an operation to have his appendix removed. Our waiban called the Mr. Zhu, who approved the operation immediately. Taalan was in a panic. We finally decided that since his appendix was simply enlarged by about 1 inch, but not seriously inflamed, that we would put him on antibiotics for a day and then check for improvement. We headed back to the first doctor, who wrote out the prescription and then sent us down to the IV ward. [Chinese hospitals prefer to give antibiotics by intravenous drip. It may have its benefits, but it's slow.] The ward was filled with small children and babies. The tiny ones had IVs inserted in their foreheads with tape wrapped around their little heads to hold it in place.
Taalan was settled into an empty room and the drip was started on the first bottle. Apparently he needed to have three bottles, and it would take about three hours. As it was 10:30 already and Tariqa would be home from school at noon, we decided that I would go home and Ms. Zheng would bring Taalan back around 1:30. Actually it was much later before Taalan got home. I was concerned and had started to head back to the hospital when I ran into them. The first two bottles had gone quickly, but the third bottle had to have a very slow drip or the body might react to it. After spending four and a half hours in the same room with screaming babies, with the third bottle still a third full, Taalan had run out of endurance and asked Ms. Zheng to bring him home.
We arranged to return to the hospital the next day to reassess the situation. In the evening I called my Chinese friend Frank for his assistance, and we agreed to meet at the hospital at 9:30. Our student friend Earnest had a part-time job with the Foreign Affairs office, and our waiban asked him to go with us to the hospital. The day just happened to be Mid-Autumn Festival, China's second largest festival. We registered and looked for the doctor we had consulted with the day before. He wasn't there; he was off for the festival. Instead we saw yet another doctor, who recommended an operation immediately. We discussed why it was important, asked what he would do if it were his child, discussed options, and finally decided that an operation would be best.
The doctor described the operation. Taalan would be numbed with a local anesthetic from the middle of his abdomen down to his hips. The operation itself would take only about 15 minutes, but the whole procedure would last about 90 minutes. Afterwards, he would need to stay in the hospital for about eight days. Apparently they remove appendices as routinely here as they removed tonsils 40 years ago in Canada. Taalan was concerned that he would be awake and would see what was happening and have to lie still without panicking. The doctor said Taalan's face could be covered so he wouldn't see. That idea didn't comfort Taalan much, so the doctor said they would give him a relaxant that would put him half asleep. The operation should be done that afternoon.
I asked whether, with the festival, there would be any qualified surgeons on duty to perform the operation. The doctor, who had been so definite that an operation was needed immediately and that it was a simple, routine procedure, stopped short. Well, maybe not, he said, and maybe those who were on duty would not consider Taalan's case serious and would postpone the operation for several days. On second thought, he continued, let's just give him an IV for three days and forget about the operation at this time. If it persists, we will operate then. Having completely changed his diagnosis, the doctor then prescribed three days of IV and 5 days of oral medicine.
We took the prescription, paid at the cashier's window, and went to the dispensary window to pick up the medicine, only to be told firmly that one should not give that medicine to anyone under 16 years of age. Frank and Earnest accosted the doctor, who then prescribed a different medicine. We paid more money, got the new medicine, and proceeded downstairs to the children's IV ward. Before inserting Taalan's IV, the nurse routinely asked to see the prescription. It was missing. Earnest headed back upstairs and returned a few minutes later with a small slip of paper. It wasn't a prescription, but it seemed to satisfy the nurses. Soon Taalan was sitting in a room with the IV dripping into his hand. After a quiet 35 minutes the drip was finished and he was ready to go home.
We are now home with instructions that Taalan is to return in the morning for the next two days for more IV drips and also take the other medicine before he goes to bed. A friend who happens to be taking the same medicine read to me the possible side effects — headache, stomachache, vomiting, fever, stopping breathing for a short period of time... Needless to say, if I had known all this at the hospital, I may not have agreed to give it to Taalan. As it is, I'll be sitting by his bedside for several hours in case there are any complications. I am not sure yet if I will even give him the medicine. Taalan is also to do no physical exercise for at least two weeks, and if there is any kind of sharp pain in his stomach he is to return to the hospital immediately for the operation. Ah well, life goes on. This too shall pass.
Thus ends the latest hospital saga. As a coincidence, the friend who is taking the same medicine is Bobbie. After breaking up with her boyfriend, all of her friends pressured her to reconsider and, being the open-hearted and forgiving person she is, she gave in. He promised that he would never push her again, but that only lasted a few days. Apparently he hit her so hard that the side of her face is swollen and her eardrum is ruptured. Her hearing is seriously affected, and the doctor is unsure if the eardrum will ever heal. I happened to meet her as we were leaving the hospital. She has been helping care for Tariqa since then, because it keeps her mind off her own difficulties. Tariqa makes her so happy when they are together. I have given her a key to our place with instructions to come here if ever she needs to get away or find a little space to breathe. She has finally agreed that she has no choice but to leave the *#@#&*, finally and for good. What a price to pay for the lesson!
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