An Adventure in Russian Medical Care

As I wrote earlier, February began with "the accident." Along with an injury everyone here thought would heal with a few days of rest, came an exasperating experience taking up the first few weeks of the month. I have now experienced many facets of the Russian medical care system, and it was very educational. 

About a week after the accident, as I started to get up and move around, my general improvement seemed to stop, and even get worse. I was concerned about the pain level, and exasperated because I had so many unanswered questions. Even while looking at the insurance claim forms, I had no idea what to write for the type of injury. I didn't think "it's not broken" would fly. I decided to go see a doctor. 

My host family had no idea where to start to find the next level of care for me, so I emailed the U.S. Consulate located here in Vladivostok. They sent me a list of clinics, and I chose the one with translators on staff. We went that night: me, my host dad, and Yulia and Slava (the parents of the family I was with when the accident happened). Arriving at the clinic, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought, to myself, that there was hope for the Russian medical system. We were at a brand new hospital that resembled those in America. We had to wait an hour to see the doctor, who was very professional and knew what he was talking about. There was a bit of a fiasco with the translator, who disappeared about halfway through the appointment, and when I asked for them to come back, to interpret the diagnosis, I was denied the request. Despite this, I was able to understand that they still didn't know what was wrong and they were suggesting an MRI. My request to have the MRI done that night, which was possible, was also denied. It was an upsetting visit for me, with the frustration topped off by the fact we still didn't know what was wrong. 

Though I was disappointed that I had no answers, it was encouraging to see such a nice clinic with very professional staff. The price for this visit was the same as the first, about 1000 rubles ($17). While it was frustrating, it was interesting to note that no one saw the need for me to know what was being said. When I asked for the translator they asked "why?" When I asked for the medical documents, or copies of them, they said I didn't need them. When I asked them to explain what the doctor had said about my hip, they said everything was fine and I didn't need to know what he said. I was confused, and still can't figure out why they had this attitude; after all, I was the patient. Maybe it's a cultural thing, although I later found out they had no experience with needing documentation for filling out insurance claims, which could explain that part of the conversation.

The next day, my host dad called about having an MRI done, which he had assured me the night before could be done this next day. It turns out, we would have to wait a week. I had had it and called the Rotary Club president, who is all-powerful in this city. I asked her if she could find me a time and place to do an MRI as soon as possible. That same afternoon, my host dad drove me to the university teaching hospital on the Russian Island, which is where a brand new university has been built. I brought an American friend of mind to translate, and we went to see a surgeon, who is a friend of the Rotary Club president. He (this third doctor) took another look at my hip, and suggested more X-rays. 

The next day we were back at the university to do the MRI and take more X-rays. What an experience it was! This clinic was beautiful, with state-of-the-art equipment and the best doctors. It could hold its own in America. I was very impressed. The MRI and X-rays were over quickly, and we went back a little later to meet with the surgeon. It could not have been a moment too soon, as I was in dismay since the doctor who initially read the MRI results said I would be in bed for a month. Thankfully, the official diagnosis was not so bad. 

I had indeed fractured my hip bone. It was high enough up that it was missed by the first set of X-rays. It was very clear to see the fracture on the MRI, but the doctor said it had already started to heal. He said I could continue walking, as long as I was comfortable. I could have kissed him. I cannot run, dance, skate, or do anything besides walking, for a month. On the first of April I will go in for a check-up. If everything is fine then, I will be back to my normal activities! 

So how much did this cost? The MRI was 5000 rubles, and the X-rays 800 ($80 and $12 respectively). Over all, for three clinic visits, three sets of X-rays, the MRI, and all the medication, the total was about 10,000 rubles (at the time, about $130US). 

All in all a trying experience, but an interesting one nonetheless. It was encouraging to see that such nice clinics and care are available here. I was touched by all the people who helped me: my host dad, Yulia and Slava, the doctors, my American friend and the Rotary Club president. In the end, everything is fine, and I am so grateful it wasn't more serious. Now I am pretty much back to normal: I walk without a limp and without pain. I'm not on any medication, and I'm feeling great! A big thank you for all your prayers, emails and support. A special thank you to Dan Boldt and, most of all, my wonderful family.