Saturday December 29, 2012

9:45 a.m. 85 Degrees Coffee Shop near MOCA

It’s a bit later this morning coffee session. That is, of course, because it is Saturday and I don’t have to go to the office or any school. However, it’s actually later because I ran an errand before I even had my first cup of coffee. The clock is ticking on my departure from Taiwan, and as part of my many departure preparations, I have to get vaccinations.

I did a bit of research early in the week, and the bits of info I found online indicated that I’d have to go to NTU Hospital to get vaccinations. I thought, however, that since the Seventh Day Adventist Hospital is so close to my office, I’d check there first. I wrote down the words “vaccination” and “typhoid” and “hepatitis” and “cholera” and I asked a coworker to translate them into Chinese. Armed with that, I walked into the hospital. I’m generally a bit mystified by the Seventh Day Adventist Hospital. They have a system where you can sign up for clinics through a bunch of automated kiosks – like medical ATMs. Unfortunately, the information about the clinics is on a complex Chinese form, and I have never figured out a way past that barrier. Beyond that, there seems to be nowhere else to go. I’ve occasionally seen people wandering around who look like they are tasked to give out information. But they are never around when I need them, and there is never anyone sitting at the desk at the door – the one desk that looks like it might be an information desk. I’ve never found a place where I can go to ask for information.

In this case, I simply went up to the counters where people register for procedures and pay for things. Presenting myself there caused the expected amount of confusion, but I couldn’t see where else I could go. My piece of paper with the translations on it was passed from hand to hand around the desk until someone felt they had a strong enough handle on the topic to deal with me. They asked me if I wanted to be an outpatient or an inpatient and other things that made no sense to me. After much confusion, I learned that vaccinations in general were handled in a different building and that section was closed for lunch. It would open at 1. I settled onto a convenient cement planter outside the hospital and ate my 7-11 sandwiches while I waited. At 1 o’clock, I presented myself at the desk in this building, and they were very helpful, though puzzled. They asked me for my forms and appointment slips, and I had to get them to understand that I didn’t have any forms and appointment slips. I was trying to figure out how one actually got these forms and made appointments so that one could have an appointment slip. I always seem to find myself in these bureaucratic dead zones, yet I can’t see that I could have done anything different. One has to start somewhere, right? And I never know where to start.

Then I found the magic words: yellow fever. I might need a yellow fever vaccine, and whatever services I might have been able to scrounge up at the Seventh Day Adventist Hospital, they knew that they did not offer a yellow fever vaccine. For that, I would have to go somewhere else. Sorry. The woman handed my piece of paper back to me and figured that was the end of it. I gave her my puppy dog face, though, and explained that she had come to the essential point – I was trying to figure out where I did, in fact, have to go and if she could point me in the right direction, I’d be very grateful – more puppy dog faces.

To my relief, she got on the phone and started dialing. Four or five phone calls later, and two pages of notes, she said that I had to go to NTU Hospital for my vaccinations – confirming what I’d read online. I’m not sure why she had to take two pages of notes, but she then grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote down an address in Chinese and a phone number.

It’s funny how most people in the world think of phone numbers as magical things. Once you have the phone number, then your problems are solved. These are the people you need – here’s their phone number – now you can call them. For me, phone numbers are pointless. There is the language barrier to consider, but there is also my total telephone ineptitude. If I manage to screw up and confuse face-to-face encounters, you can imagine how much confusion I manage to inject into phone calls. In short, I never call these numbers. I have to go places in person.

Still, it had been a successful outing. I did have an address in Chinese and I was given an official opinion that NTU Hospital was the place to go. I went back to the Internet and was informed that vaccinations were done at the Family Clinic at NTU and this was located on the second floor.

So, this morning, I gathered up whatever documents and ID I felt I’d need, and I hopped on the MRT to go to NTU Hospital. The hospital is conveniently located just 2 MRT stops away from my home, so I was there very quickly. My mentality for these visits is one born of much experience and is calculated to reduce stress and frustration. I head out into the world on these quests without any idea that I would get anything done on that day or on that visit. I think of it as a process – a process that could go on for weeks or even months. My goal is to get the necessary vaccinations for travel, and this would eventually happen. It would just take time and many, many visits. I think of it as a campaign that will require a lot of time and planning – like laying siege to a castle. You settle in for the long haul and don’t rush things.

I had never been to NTU Hospital, but I knew the building very well and I walked there fairly directly from the MRT station. It’s a large and rather plain-looking brown brick building. I walked through the front doors and found myself facing a friendly-looking volunteer in the traditional yellow jacket. I spoke with her and showed her my magic piece of paper with the translations on it. She didn’t know anything about vaccinations, but she knew the people who did, and she walked me over to a larger information counter with two women sitting behind it. She spoke to the younger woman and showed her my paper. This younger woman merely shrugged her shoulders and referred us to the older woman. It’s often that way, I find. There is one person in any office, at any desk, in any situation, who knows everything. The others are there and are helpful in minor roles, but when it comes down to it, only that one person – the anchor – really knows the drill, and all the questions get referred to her or him. “Ask Beverly. She’ll know.”

Beverly did know, and she told my young volunteer that I needed to go to a separate building altogether. My friendly and helpful volunteer walked me out of the building and guided me all the way across one street and down another street to an older, traditional and very ornate building. In the entrance, she handed me off to another volunteer in a yellow jacket and bid me goodbye and good luck. This volunteer took me on a long and complex walk up stairwells and down hallways always following the signs to the Family Clinics. That was good news, since I had read that I needed the Family Clinics. I was even more pleased when at the Family Clinics area, I spotted another sign on the wall that said “Travel Clinic” or “Travel Vaccination Clinic” or something like that. I had found exactly what I was looking for.

My volunteer guide told me that the clinic opened at 9:00 a.m., and he turned to leave me. I stopped him, though, because I knew it wasn’t that easy. Simply being at the clinic wasn’t enough. I had to have an appointment for that clinic. And, in my experience, appointments are not made at clinics. They are made somewhere else. I told him that I didn’t have an appointment. Didn’t I need to register somewhere?

He looked at me with surprise and to his credit no annoyance at all and then guided me all the way back to where we had started from – the front desk area in the lobby where I needed to register. They had forms in English and they gave me a comfortable seat at the desk. The form was the Outpatient Initial Assessment Form, and it was a fairly simple form. I was told only to answer the first 12 questions, and these were all related to names and addresses and phone numbers and that sort of thing. Then I had to sign a consent form and once registered they signed me up for an appointment at the Travel Clinic on Monday. Monday is New Year’s Eve, but that doesn’t matter to me and it doesn’t matter to the hospital. “We’re a hospital,” she said. “We never close.”

So there you have it – one of my more successful outings. A trip to one hospital. A trip to a second hospital on a Saturday morning. And I have an appointment two days from now at the Travel Clinic. Of course, I won’t suddenly get all my vaccinations on Monday and be done with it. It doesn’t work that way. I assume I will speak with a doctor about my travel plans – which countries I plan to go to and how long I plan to be there – and then we will discuss which vaccinations I do or do not need. Before Monday, I will do my own research and come up with some ideas of my own. I’ve already gotten many vaccinations in my lifetime, of course, so for most, I’ll likely just need a booster. For others, I might not be able to get them until much later. I’m not leaving Taiwan until February 28th, so for certain vaccinations that last only a certain amount of time, it would make sense to get them as late as possible. I think the various hepatitis vaccines fall into this category. Vaccinations like these are not covered by national health insurance, so I will have to pay for them. It will be interesting to see what they cost compared to the costs in Canada. I believe the yellow fever vaccine is the most expensive.

 

Tags: Family Clinics, MRT, Seventh Day Adventist Hospital, Travel Clinic, Yellow Fever