My experience with a German emergency room

I do not consider myself accident prone by any means, but I do have my moments. My tumble down the stairs last semester comes to mind... I was in such a rush to join my friends at our favorite Mexican restaurant that I tripped and took a nasty fall, spraining my ankle. Of course I would never let a silly thing like that spoil a meal, and I decided to simply crawl to the car and kill the pain with a margarita pitcher.

But I digress. An old high school friend of mine just finished up her year in Paris, and she had some time to visit me before returning to the States. Just before lunch, I wash putting away a few dishes in the common kitchen of my dorm. Now, let me take a moment to explain a very prominent difference I have noticed between my home country of the United States and Germany: the doors. Here, more often than not, they open the opposite way they would at home. For example, to get into my building, I push the door open. Doesn't really sound that strange, I know, but for some reason I find it more logical for the doors to open the other way. If they would open outward they would be much easier to escape from quickly as in the event of a fire. Who knows, I could be pulling this all out of my ass. Anyway, the kitchen opening is set up pretty awkward, with the sink next to the door which also opens inward.

It all started with my friend opening the door a bit too quickly. The result was like a twisted Rube Goldberg device: My friends force of the door smacked the open cabinet door which I was standing in front of, smacking me in the forehead and cutting it open. After a bit of freaking out, we ate lunch quickly and went on over to the emergency room which involved taking a street car to the main train station and then a bus to the clinic, taking about a half-hour. The bleeding had stopped even before I got on the street car, so I just kind of hung out with a cut on my forehead.

I had some difficulties with language upon entering the hospital, but after some spastic gesticulations and broken German, I was able to find exactly where I needed to go. With the help of a friend from my building, I was able to figure out what was going on with the paperwork, and I got in without a problem. The doctor in the waiting room was what I would have expected. He talked to me quickly and was annoyed by my failure to understand. But after a while, I was called into an actual hospital type room where a nice younger doctor took care of me. I suspected I'd need a few stitches, but I got a piece of tape on my head instead. I would say that was much better. He spoke a little English and was able to piece together my fragmented sentences. He surprised me by asking where I was from, as if my accent wasn't obvious enough.

I consider my adventure to the hospital a complete success! Learning a new language is difficult enough for everyday, but random situations are insane. I didn't know any kind of medical vocabulary, so I guess it was a learning experience in that aspect too.

I have had only one other experience with a German doctor here, and I did not enjoy it at all. I was diagnosed with bipolar last year, and my program director here insisted that I see someone first thing just in case something else came up later. Actually, it isn't a bad idea, but I ended up not needing a psychiatrist while here as I brought a full supply of meds with me and am generally stabilized. It was only my second week here, and I was still getting used to the language. The agency that recommended him for me insisted that he spoke perfect English because he had worked for two years in England. I was relieved to hear this because I wasn't looking forward to discussing my brain chemistry in broken German. The doctor, however, was extremely rude and was pretty pissed when upon him asking "Shall we speak German or English?" I picked the former. What did he want to do? Trigger an episode? I should have gone batshit crazy! That would have been fun for him... hehe. My program director insisted that it was simply a cultural difference, and my doctor wasn't being rude, he was just being German. I'm not so sure. Maybe psychiatrists here like to be mean to their patients so they can just get crazier and come more often. Who knows.