On the second day of school a woman named Katherine, the mother of Antonia, Alexi and Raphie, invited me to her home to help me "learn some of the ropes". We sat around her table and chatted for a few hours (in English). It was delightful. School was over and it was time to go get the kids. Katherine invited me and the kids to come back after school. I thought this would be a great opportunity to formulate some friendships and accepted her offer.
When I went to pick up the children, I found Shea holding her left arm next to her stomach and looking like she was in a little pain. Having seen this before, I decided to give it the rest of the day to see if she might miraculously feel better when we were at our friend's house. We enjoyed a few hours of play and talk, but Shea would still not use her arm. Hmm. Maybe it is just a sprain. She wasn't crying or freaking out, so we waited until the next morning.
Still no sign of improvement so off to the doctor we went. Thankfully we had already been to a doctor to get physicals done, so we knew where one was and that she spoke English. We called and were in her office less than an hour later. Do I have and SIS card yet? No. (SIS card is some sort of card we are supposed to carry around with all our medical history/information on it) The doctor checked her arm and sent us to the Radiology department at the hospital.
The hospital...
When arriving at the hospital you must go to registration. No big difference from America. We enter through the registration doors and are immediately lost. I ask the lady behind the desk, "Do you speak English? Yes. "What am I supposed to do?" She pointed to a ticket machine by the door. The machine gives you 3 choices, all in Dutch. We tell her why we are there and she pushes the one that looks like it could say "registration". We get our ticket and wait. The waiting room kind of reminds me of the DMV.. You have rows of chairs and you wait for a huge t.v. monitor to display your ticket. Once your ticket is displayed you go to the window/desk waiting for you. We wait, get called and then I ask my favorite question, "Do you speak English"? Yes. Do we have our SIS card? No. We get registered and then sent to the radiology department.
We take the elevator up to the floor where radiology is supposed to be located. We exit into an area that looks like it should be closed off for construction/remodeling work. The door to our right says "radiology" so we walk through it and enter a long hallway with electrical wires hanging through the ceiling and the wall to our side looks like a temporary wall of plastic looking sheet rock. There is a door open on the left and a women inside who I ask my question again. "Do you speak English?" She does, of course and takes our paper work from registration and tells me to wait in the waiting room down the hall. You mean the hall under construction? Yep.
We walk down the hall and see a room with people, chairs and real walls. This must be the place. After waiting a little while a name that sounds like Shea's name is called. We approach the technician who starts talking to us and again I say, "Do you speak English?" Yes. He bring us further down the hall to a row of doors in the temporary wall side. We go through one. On the other side is a pretty normal looking
x-ray room. X-rays are finished and we are sent back to the waiting room.
A few minutes later we are called back up. Yes, Shea's arm is broken and we need to go down to the Urgent Care/ Emergency area. (Crap. I guess I won't be winning the Mother of the year award again this year.) We go back down the hallway of construction/construction workers-with no whistles-lame. We go back through the doors, down the elevator and get lost. We were told to go right, but the door says "Do not Enter". A man in scrubs walks through and I ask, "Do you speak English?" A little bit. "Can you tell me how to get to Urgent care?" Through these doors. He actually walks us there. Thank you, thank you. We went through a few other doors and were where we needed to be.
I hand the lady the paperwork from the radiology department and ask, "Do you speak English?" Yes. Do I have my SIS card? No. Wait on these chairs and a nurse will help me. Enter the nurse speaking Dutch. "Do you speak English?" A little. The nurse checks us in and then we are sent to wait in another waiting room. We wait some more and then are taken to a room to wait. A doctor enters and starts talking. I interrupt. "I'm sorry, I only know English." He speaks to me in English and tells me he will need to put a soft cast on Shea and then leaves. About a half hour later the nurse from the beginning comes back and suits Shea up in her soft cast. We will have to come back for the hard cast next week.
The next week..
Registration department take two. We enter the doors and push the "registration" button. After our number is called we ask, "Do you speak English?' Yes. Do I have my SIS card? No. Done registering. Up the elevators to Orthopedics. Hand the paper work to the receptionist. "Do you speak English?" Yes, Please wait in the waiting room down the hall. The nurse calls Shea. "Do you speak English?" Yes. She brings us into a room with 4 beds lined up. We get a bed behind curtain number 3. The doctor comes over and starts talking in Dutch. The nurse says, "They speak English" The doctor changed language mid-sentence. Amazing. Set Shea up with a cast and we were on our way.
My side note.
The hospital-Crazy, but like most things, once you know the system it can run smoothly. I hope to never go back to the hospital again, but if any of you know my EXTREMELY active children it is not a question of if, but when.
I am totally fascinated by people who can speak multiple languages. Most of the Flemish people we have met hear speak Dutch, French and English. (Thankfully) I feel kind of language stupid. Do I speak English? Yes, but only just.
©ColleenFisher
