While this anonymous blog space is essential for me I'm determined not hide the truth completely so this blog allows me to gather myself periodically in a world where most of my life changing moments are the greatest taboos and downright uncomfortable to hear. So here are the words and pictures to my story so far...
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Enemols and 'isterosalpingogramas
I've always wanted to have private health insurance but view it as a luxury. During my nursing days I realised the limitations of fancy health plans. All the doilies and drapes, the private rooms with TV and wifi are no use when the s**t hits the fan. Then it's off to an acute bed, same surgeon, same treatment as the NHS patient lying next to you. I worked briefly in a private wing of my local DGH and learned that private patients have their chocolate mousse piped with a decorative strawberry on top, rather than dolloped onto a chipped plastic plate to resemble the contents of a bedpan.
Well, in this city, private health plans are essential but sadly don't compare well to the ones in the UK. So ours has no fertility cover but does include cosmetic surgery after 12 months, a basic requirement here it seems from the matching masks of the over 50's women in the fancy neighbourhoods. Our Doctor very kindly ordered my hysterosalpingogram on our health plan rather than the fancy fertility clinic which has really helped in saving a few pesos. So far so good, admin crap of course but I'm used to that in the NHS. However, today I found myself lying on a slightly rusty steel bed with a very rude male radiographer shoving pipes and metal clamps into me like a Christmas turkey having it's stubborn giblets removed by a novice butcher. And all the while trying to control my bowels after 2 enemas with the added sense of drama cast upon my no longer private parts by the nurse with a large torch that looks like she popped it in her handbag from the boot of her car. Just in case she ended up working in examen cubiculo 2. Never again, I hope.
The Nurse was very kind but too intimidated by the fat butcher to continue with her words of encouragement and reassurance during the procedure. He seemed determined to make one of us cry. So anyway, results from this procedure and various others due in December. I am grateful for the fact I was able to book this scan just days ago, I know there are women currently waiting 3-6 months for this in the UK. Also, at the end of all this I can have my stress lines ironed out and hitched up round my ears...for free!
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Fingers crossed for December will be thinking of you. Keep blagging you shouldn't have to pay. Can you claim back on NHS if you do?
ReplyDeleteNah...once you've left the country for over 3 months you are not entitled to any treatment on the NHS. My GP told me anyway. Yes I am going to squeeze this health plan dry!
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