Last week I caught a cold from a student. A fairly common occurrence for a teacher, this shouldn't have been a big ordeal. But while adjusting to an new culture, it feels like everything is a big ordeal!
Monday morning, I could feel that if I talked all day long I was going to loose my voice. And sure enough, after a full day of using my teacher voice (shouting over the construction outside my room and my excessively chatty fifth graders) my students could barely hear me by the end of the day.
During our two weeks of "training" before school started we had had a laughable meeting on how to not loose your voice. Ooops, maybe I should have paid attention. However, we had not been told anything about the procedures for being sick. So I went to inquire.
Step 1. Go see the school nurse. She will tell you if you need to go to the doctor.
(Hmmm...that's funny. Here I've been thinking all my adult life that I was
capable of judging that myself. Turns out I'm not.)
Step 2. Go see the doctor. He will give you permission to miss school.
(Ooook.....Needing notes for permission to do things doesn't end in high
school here.)
Step 3. If you don't want to go to the doctor, come to school tomorrow. Since you
clearly can't teach your class, we will find someone to teach it for you.
(Oh, so it is obvious that I've lost my voice and that that makes teaching
somewhat difficult? One would think that would invalidate steps one and
two but it doesn't. A doctor's expertise is needed to confirm that what you
are hearing - or not hearing in this case - is indeed valid.)
I skipped step one, but the next morning when my voice hadn't come back, I did go to the doctor. Despite feeling completely fine aside from not being able to talk, I wanted to get paid, so off I went.
I had been told there was a clinic close to my house. Said clinic turned out to be a massive medical complex with signs and arrows pointing all over the place to medical specialties that I wouldn't know the meaning of in English. Unfortunately, there wasn't a sign for "permission to miss work". I explained to one of the security guards that I had "perdi mi voz" - lost my voice - and needed permission to miss work. She directed me to the local police station. Staring at her incredulously, I confirmed that not only did I need a doctor's note to miss work but I needed a police report!?!?! After several minutes discussion I discovered that she had thought I said "perdi mi bolsa" - my purse. We probably both thought each other equally crazy - her thinking I was at a hospital to report a stolen purse and me thinking the entire country was insane requiring police reports to be sick. Misunderstanding clarified, she sent my on my way toward the back of the building.
On my way I had to stop several more times to ask directions and kept being asked if I wanted to go to the emergency room. So confusing! In what world does loosing your voice constitute an emergency?! Why did they keep asking me that? Eventually I was directed to a little office where I explained my situation again to a very helpful woman. She knew exactly what to do. She escorted me to the emergency room. On the way she explained that while loosing my voice is not technically an emergency I would not be able to get a doctor's appointment for the same day and, since I needed the note now, the emergency room was the best way to get it. Standard practice in Colombia as most employers require a doctor's note to be sick.
Feeling only slightly ridiculous, I walked through the emergency room, past all the people laying on cots having legitimate emergencies. Oh, excuse me, I lost my voice. Pardon me, I need to check in so I can get a note to bring to school.
The doctor advised me that I had laryngitis, which is caused by a virus, and that I should go home and not talk for three days. Such expertise! He then asked if I wanted some medicine. To treat something that will go away on its own in a day or two? No thanks. But he persisted. I think he thought I was afraid of shots (I am) because as far as I can tell they administer shots in the butt for just about every type of malady here. So he reassured me that the medicine was not a shot and that I really should have it. Whatever, fine. Easier than explaining in Spanish how I feel about unnecessary medication. So I sat in a chair for 45 minutes breathing in who knows what through a mask. I was in the final stages of plotting my escape when the nurse finally returned to ask if I felt better. Nope, I felt the same. Perfectly healthy, just like when I got there, minus the fact that I still couldn't talk. Astounded that I wasn't better, he asked if I wanted to see the doctor again. This is a real shocker but it turns out this particular hospital hasn't actually found a cure for laryngitis. No thanks, I think I'll be ok without seeing the doctor again.
So three hours and half my day's pay later, I left the emergency room with permission to be absent from work. Success!
But not really. Had I actually been sick and not feeling well I would have needed several more days off of work to recover from spending so much time chasing that piece of paper when all I really would have needed was rest. The worst of it is, the school doesn't usually hire subs. They just rearrange classes so that the students have their area classes (English, Art, Spanish) while I am gone and I teach my classes when I return during the time that they would normally have their area classes. Basically, they move all my prep time to the day I am gone and pile on the work for when I return.
In short, getting sick here is far from convenient!
No comments:
Post a Comment