Hospital disaster:(

We have really gotten so much better living day to day in this seemingly backward country - really we have...no I promise...no seriously. Well it certainly didn't look or feel like it last week when we experienced yet another "first time" here (strange to think we are still having those after almost an entire year!)

Up to this point we have been fortunate enough to avoid having to find a doctor in Beijing; although we had hoped that whenever that unlucky situation came our way we would be able to find a lovely western doctor who would help us in our predicament. Sadly, we needed a doctor quite urgently last week Thursday night when I had had what the Chinese call a "pull tummy" for 6 straight days (use your imagination). I was dehydrated, unable to eat and extremely uncomfortable and after numerous conversations with my frantic mother and their office GP in SA we decided that seeing someone immediately was the only course to take. We went to the highly recommended China-Japan Friendship hospital where we were incredibly disappointed to find that the Western section of the hospital closed at 5pm - fat help that is at 9pm after work! We circled the block until we found what looked more like construction site than a hospital and were dismissingly directed to the 'colon' section of the 'ward' by a nurse who, out in the hallway, thought it appropriate to discuss all manner of the foreigner's boul to all within earshot. The colon ward was essentially a makeshift prefab block in the middle of a pile of sand and rubble, where we were met by 2 eager doctors ready to examine my sample. Before I had a chance to take in the smell or decide whether I was comfortable going through with this, both Kyle and I were in a dirty room with a dirty squat toilet, no gloves, no toilet paper and a wide open window. On the way in, we had been given strict instructions (which we understood more by her gestering than by her actual words - Kyle of course doesn't learn this kind of vocabulary in Business mandarin!) We were to use the homemade cut out cardboard strip (probably cut from a cereal box) to scrape off a sample from the "toilet" and place in the smallest sample container you have ever seen; my sewing needle would not have fitted. Then just place it in the small hole in the wall and someone will pick it up.
Seriously.
Poor Kyle had to hold everything we were carrying - which was a lot, while still trying to support me, not hurl, and pass me the goods while I was trying to balance over this contraption. To say I clammed up is an understatement, and after both of us almost tumbled in while the discreet nurse yelled "are you finished yet?!" for all the world to hear, we gave up.
We still felt the urgency to get it seen to so our last attempt was to try in the bushes behind the car park. After an hour of dodging passerby's, being bitten by mosquitos and feeling nothing but grass tickles, we decided that whatever pain or discomfort I felt before I arrived, it was nothing compared to the experience we had just had. And if being sick meant being there, perhaps I wasn't so sick afterall. So we left at 11pm that night, determined never to have to relive the ordeal. Since then we have prayed unceasingly that whatever infection I had would be healed; I've also been downing re-hydrate and green tea and am happy to report a part 2 was not necessary.
It was more embarrassing and humiliating than you can possibly imagine, easily the most impossible and disgusting experience since we arrived. But I still crack myself up every time I think about it now. Nothing tops that, so despite it's graphic nature I had to share.