Without a Traceroute

Today was pretty awful. I spent basically the entire day dealing with the Swedish medical system. They were mostly nice, but it was incredibly draining trying to navigate an unfamiliar system when I’m sick. Also, it was expensive because I’m not Swedish.

First, I went to the main hospital because that seemed like the easiest place to start. I took a number and waited for about an hour at the ER, only to be told that in Sweden the ER is exclusively for serious emergencies. They told me I needed to go over to this “Vardcentralen Eden” which is some sort of clinic or doctors’ office. I didn’t know how to get there, and they told me there was no good bus line, so I took a cab, which felt like an inexcusable luxury.

The receptionist at the Vardcentralen was very nice about helping me fill out the registration paperwork, and I got to see a doctor pretty quickly. The doctor had them run a test for streptococcus bacteria, which came back negative. He quickly decided that the infection was severe enough that it needed treatment back at the hospital again.

They wrote me a referral, and I had to run down the street to buy a new Swedish SIM card so that the people at the hospital could call me and tell me when my appointment was. At this point, it was around noon, and I’d been dealing with medical stuff since 9 am. They called me and told me I should come to the hospital at 3:30 pm.

I didn’t have anything else to do, so I went back over to the hospital and tried to kill time. The only thing in English at the little hospital gift shop/newsstand was The Economist, so I tried reading that for a while and also tried to sleep a little. At around 2:30 I went and checked in.

The ear, nose and throat doctor seemed pretty decent. I had still been half-hoping to escape with just a prescription for antibiotics, but no such luck. She numbed the infected part of my throat with local anesthetic. Then, she really went to town, lancing it with needles to drain pus, and further cutting it open with a small scalpel. The whole inside of my mouth was a gory mess.

Afterwards, she gave me a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers. I went down to the pharmacy in the hospital. That was probably the worst wait. I kept having to leave to go spit in the bathroom, and I was really worried that I’d lose my spot in line. Plus, I just wanted it to be over.

Finally, I got the medicine and went back to the house of the guy I’m staying with. I feel a little bit better, but not great. I’ve taken two doses of the antibiotics so far (I’m supposed to take them 3 times a day for 10 days), so I’m hoping they’ll be effective.

Anyway, being sick while traveling is miserable. I’m sure Sweden is a perfectly nice country, but in my mind now it will forever be associated with feeling terrible. Dealing with the Swedish health care system is, similarly, an Authentic Cultural Experience I could easily have done without.