I was hoping to not have to learn about the Spanish hospital system, but mom’s fall made it a necessity. In three days, we went to 3 hospitals.
The ambulance took us straight to the hospital. It didn’t dawn on me to inquire where we were until hours later. Turns out we were at the public Hospital Virgen de las Nieves in Granada.
There mom received an initial consultation and diagnosis of fractures in 3 bones in her ankle.
They also reduced the fracture (reset it manually, which was quite painful, both to experience and to watch). Since she injured herself on the weekend, she waited for surgery behind more urgent traumas for 2 days (one of which was her roommate with a broken pelvis. Yes, no private room). When the surgeon finally got to her, she was told that the ankle was too swollen to operate and that they would have to put temporary pins and wait 7-10 days. We asked if she had to wait, could she be transferred back near our home in Torre Del Mar. They said she could transfer, but to wait to do the pins in Torre Del Mar so that one surgeon could do both parts of the surgery and that she could safely travel with the half cast immobilizing the bones.
Mom was ecstatic to get out of the hospital (even though it was just for a 1.5 hour drive).
We checked into the emergency room at the Public Hospital Axarquia in Torre Del Mar. It was overflowing with very sick people (Mom stopped counting after 50).
After waiting 2 hours, mom said she wanted to leave and try later. As we started to leave, an orderly informed me that we could not leave. When we asked him why not, he just repeated that it was obligatory that we stay. So we slunked back to the waiting room for a while longer. When we noticed that the orderly was busy moving someone on a gurney we made a run for it!
One of Oliver’s friend’s mom works at the hospital, so I gave her a call. She told me that 9 am is the best time to go to the emergency room. By 10am it gets busy and by the afternoon it is horrific (as we now knew). So we made the executive decision to come back in the morning, just before 9am. The emergency room is a different place at 9am.
We were able to meet with a trauma surgeon right away. Initially he said that the wait for surgery would be two weeks. Then he asked if she had traveler’s insurance, which thankfully she did. Well, that changed everything. He was able to transfer us to a private hospital, Hospital Galvéz, in Málaga for surgery that night!
Our reception at the private hospital was very different. We were escorted right in and they immediately started pre-op tests, while one of the 4 international relations employees called the insurance right away. We had to wait a bit for a room to open up in the 40 bed hospital, but then we were escorted to a private room, where we were left alone to wait for surgery for many hours.
My biggest frustration was that the doctor did not come to talk to us to tell us what was going to happen. Eventually the anesthesiologist came in and we learned the approximate time of the surgery and the length of the surgery. When they eventually wheeled mom off to surgery, I still hadn’t been able to speak to the surgeon. We crossed our fingers and trusted that everything would be okay and sent her off to surgery. The surgery went well and I was told the surgeon would come speak to me, but apparently he went home. So I tucked her into bed and taxied home at midnight.
Mom stayed in the hospital for 3 days. She received wonderful care and was visited by one of the English speaking International relations agents each day. Mom was most impressed when the giant X-ray machine was brought to her room at 9:30 at night.
Overall we learned that you get more immediate service in a private hospital and don’t expect that anyone will explain what is happening or what to expect in any hospital. Oh, and shockingly, there was no soap in either of the public hospital bathrooms, but there were bars of soap in the private hospital.
Mom is very happy to be out of the hospital.
Now, how to get her back to Portland…
Adrift in Andalucía 