Communism is dead?

Communism is dead?

The day before Sam and Noel came; I went down to Maputo to see the thyroid doctor. I figured it was high time to see the doctor since I had not seen one since I got my thyroid taken out. In the true comedy of errors, or just Mozambican logic, I get out of my house at 5 in the morning to catch the bus. We don’t leave until 8:30. I had scheduled my appointment in Maputo for 15h00 or 3:00PM; I knew I wasn’t going to make it. So I sent a text message to the doctor. She said she’d move it. I still didn’t make it. The bus pulls into Maputo at 16h00 and I get a phone call from the doctor to go straight to the central hospital to see the thyroid specialist. Luckily I was very near the hospital at that time. I thought things would finally be working for me. I was wrong. I had never been to a Mozambican public hospital. As Peace Corps Volunteers, we are spoiled with the private hospital in the embassy quarter of town – not real life I know. Anyway, I get to the hospital with a backpack and my computer and am sweating and stinky. I had just made a mad dash of about 7 kilometers after spending 7 hours on a bus so I was little ripe. I go to reception to ask where to find Dr. Paula.

I get sent to check in. (step 1)

At check in they give me a form to fill out and ask for my insurance card. (step 2)

I then move onto another line that I’d been waiting in about 15 minutes to fill in my personal details which I had already filled in at step 2. (step 3)

I get told I’m in the wrong line because it’s not workman’s comp and I have to go to the next line, where there is no one sitting at the computer. (step 4)

The lady from step 4 comes over to process me. She’s covering both desks because private pay processing lady is sick. I get a bill to pay before the doctor even looks in my direction. (step 5)

I walk over to the payment desk where a rather butch and disgruntled Portuguese woman is sitting who really hasn’t been doing anything over the course of the past 30 minutes to pay. I pay and get a receipt and get some indecipherable response to my query about the location of Dr. Paula’s office. (step 6)

I RUN to the other side of the hospital to see if Dr. Paula is there, she’s not and with my tail between my legs and a whimper, I go home. (step 7)

7 step plan to complete lunacy brought to you by a “official not communist” communist health system. It gets better though, because the next day I tried to get all another appointment made. Another doctor calls me and says I need to go to a different hospital in Maputo (private) to see Dr. Paula. I get to Consultorios Medicos and she is not there. The very same doctor who told me to go to CM told the very nice Dr. Paula to go to HCM where I was yesterday. However, Dr. Paula drove from HCM to CM poked at me a little, looked at my charts, explained some things to me, told me I should see her one more time before I leave Mozambique and pronounced me healthy and only having to get a check up once a year! Is there a moral to this story??? I don’t know, I’m just glad I don’t have to go through that again.