Health care in Israel is different than you think it is. It is universal, but not in that scary, everyone gets horrid care kind of way. We actually have excellent doctors and facilities, considering that the country is only 60 years old. Little did I know last week that I would be testing the extent of those facilities.
I went to the Beach on Tuesday. It was a women's only beach in the Tel-Aviv area a gorgeous day to swim in the Med. Shevy and I came home tired but happy. Half way through the night I got up to go to the bathroom. As I sat down to take care of things I felt nauseated and dizzy; not a feeling I am unfamiliar with, as I am prone to fainting. The next thing I know I'm flat out on the bathroom floor (ick) wondering what happened. After calling out to my DH, waking the baby, and hosing myself off in the tub, my DH decides I'm dehydrated and runs up to the 24 market to get me some gatorade. Meanwhile, I puke my guts up onto some dirty laundry piled next to my bed. (I always notice how dirty the house is when I'm sick and can't do anything about it.) Despite my mom's voice in my head warning me not to eat or drink for an hour after throwing up (mom doesn't say puke) the DH convinces me to drink some gatorade. About an hour later I throw up again, fortunately this time into a large bowl. An hour later DH is also throwing up and also having to run to the bathroom every hour, so we figure we both have some virus and decide to just let it run it's course. Then Shevy starts having leaky diapers, and being other than her normally happy self. By this time it's afternoon on Wednesday, so we decide to take her into the clinic. While there, the Doc is very concerned about the bump on my head (I'm pretty sure I hit it on the door when I passed out) While she's examining me, I lose consciousness again, and throw up again. She freaks out and orders me to be admitted to the ER. We get a taxi to the big Hospital (Haddassa Ein Kerem) which also has a mall attached--another story--and after going a little nuts they send a Medical explorer to come take my blood. He provides me with a running commentary of his incompetence (failed to insert a Heprin lock, just barely got the blood they needed after 4 sticks) and I promptly pass out again. So they admit me to the trauma unit, the Doc gives me the *worst* Hep. lock IV I've ever had (docs usually suck at basic procedures, by the way. get a nurse to do it) and they start pumping me full of unwarmed saline. I hate that feeling. So, they CT me and X-ray me and take more blood and 12 hours and 4 bags of saline later have no idea why I passed out (not surprised) but want to keep me in the Hospital for a week to run tests to find out why I faint. I have a 7-month-old at home so I say No way, which really annoys the Israeli Doc, who is used to being obeyed like a god. I know all the tests he wants to run can be done outpatient and my DH has had the baby *alone* for 12 hours and is going nuts with what to do. So I check myself out of the hospital AMA (against Medical advice) and take a taxi home, where my daughter nearly turned herself inside out with delight at seeing me after us being separated for the longest time since I gave birth to her. That's all I have the time or energy to type right now. I need a nap. maybe next time I'll write about the Drunk Ethopian in the ER or the poor lady with Fibromyalgia and 2 broken wrists.