I’ve had a filling replaced in The Gambia, a root canal and a crown put on in Taiwan, a root canal in New Delhi, and stitches taken out in Great Britain. When I was living in Denmark with a family as a college student, I hurt my little toe at a swimming pool and went to the emergency room just to see what a Danish emergency room would be like. It’s not like I was, or I am falling apart–or that I’m one of those people always on the prowl for medical care thrills. But, if you travel and live overseas long enough, going to the doctor is probably a given–even for the healthiest of people. Or, if you don’t go to a doctor, you’ll be hunting down medication for some ailment.
Ask Justin. He found this one out when he trolled the streets on his trip to Poland looking for drugs for his girlfriend. She had a wicked cold and his aim was to help her ease the symptoms. (see his post)
In his column that he writes for the South Florida Sun-Sentinel, Thomas Swick describes his traveling in another country medical experiences. He points out how such traveling interludes offers insight into a country one might not get otherwise.
For the most part, I’ve found medical care good to excellent–and easily accessible wherever I’ve traveled, providing I wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps, a doctor’s office has not looked quite as swank as what I have been mostly used to in the United States, but whatever help I’ve needed, it’s been there. Even when I was on a Rotary Club exchange program to Nigeria, when the leader of our group cut his hand, he was given stitches in a very simple clinic. The doctor was a whiz and the resulting scar was minuscule.
Of course, there was that time in Vietnam when my husband had a terrible itchy rash. A pharmacist gave him a collection of pills. One kept making my husband so sleepy he couldn’t stay awake. Since he wasn’t sure which one was the sleeping pill, he quit taking them all. Eventually, the rash went away.