Living the Travel Channel

Posted by Kanga, please do not reblog.

It has been a long long time since my last post. I have not disappeared off the face of the planet, but we are no longer “living the travel channel,” so to speak. We have returned to America and are very unlikely to leave it again. The thought of getting on an airplane is anathema to me. It’s the last thing I want to do.

Moving was ridiculously stressful and complicated (due to COVID restrictions). We had to pack and ship belongings, dispose of the rest of our belongings, try to find a home for our cats (did not work out), get copies of all my medical records (in Chinese), arrange to travel by land from Xi’an to Shanghai, get the cats vaccinated and their travel papers, get a flight that included our cats, get permission to leave our apartment complex because of a COVID lock down that occurred the night before we were to leave, find a hotel that allowed pets near the Shanghai airport, accomplish final errands in Shanghai, and meet with friends to say goodbye. There are so many details I am leaving out, but I don’t really want to relive them by describing them.

On August 22nd, we finally got on a plane with our cats in the cabin with us (not as cargo thankfully). It was a long flight. The plane was packed. The cats were stressed. But, we finally made it.

Over the last few years, we have settled in with family. Daddybird went from just taking care of me to taking care of his parents, as well. Huge transition.

Thankfully, we were able to get health insurance coverage through the Affordable Care Act. My USA medical experience was the complete opposite of my China experience. By December I was done with chemotherapy and clear of any signs of disease. The treatment I received in China was effective, but the stress of the chaos was huge. I really appreciated the quiet of the US waiting rooms. I appreciated clear communications with doctors. I was able to face surgery trusting the doctor and staff and knowing exactly what would happen.

Compare the waiting “rooms.” Worlds apart.

We won’t be traveling much, if at all, but I will continue this blog. I have been doing a lot of genealogical research, so I will switch to time travel, instead of world travel. I’ve uncovered some interesting stories and will share them here.

Posted by Kanga, please do not reblog.

I am overdue for blogging. I probably should have blogged about our experience of being in COVID total lock down in Xi’an from December 23, 2021 – January 23, 2022. We were given very little warning. We were suspecting it, expecting it, but not sure what form it would take, when it would happen, or how long it would go. DaddyBird did some stocking up, but in the end it was not sufficient. You don’t always start by saying “I need a month’s worth of cat food and fresh cat litter.” The announcement was made December 22nd that lock down would happen at midnight and that only one person from each household would be allowed to go out every other day to obtain necessities. By 8:00 am the next morning it had changed to no one leaves the household and everyone should wait to be called for testing. The lock down was citywide.

Other than food and supplies, this was not a big deal for us. My school holiday had just started, but there was nowhere to go. Traveling was out of the question even without lock down. Being a tourist within Xi’an, also out of the question as museums and sites have been mostly closed for months. So, stay at home, wear pajamas, watch TV, and read a book.

The two main challenges were communication and obtaining food deliveries. A large number of coworkers live in our same apartment complex, so we chatted online about how long was the testing line, where could we get food, and splitting up the huge amounts of food that were delivered. An online chat group was created for our building by the management company, but strangely they included apartment owners who were not physically present, maybe not even in Xi’an. (The amusing part was when the government delivered truck loads of cabbage and the absent owners wanted to know how to get their share.) All official communications were in Chinese, so the computer translations were often confusing. A routine was worked out eventually and we got used to daily testing and announcements about what to do and not do.

DaddyBird was in charge of getting food delivered. We also had a cooperative group among the school employees for ordering food from a specific supplier found by our support staff. The deliveries, however, were large quantities – like a huge sack of potatoes, a whole flat of raspberries or blueberries, or a whole box of avocados (that all ripen simultaneously). One day the government delivered two HUGE cabbages to each household and the jokes popped up about Mrs Bucket’s cabbage soup recipe. My dear vegan husband took pity on me about halfway through the ordeal and ordered a piece of pork, which he stretched for several meals on my behalf.

Thirty days did prove to be a long stint for me. I became lethargic and bored. It was hard to stay self-motivated and active.

Before this lock down occurred I had planned to make a doctor appointment. I had been putting it off until holiday so as not to miss work. Once the lock down started, there was no way to pursue that, as the whole city was in the same situation. As the weeks rolled by and I waited, my physical condition got worse. I had a cough that would not go away. Acid reflux, aggravated by the cough, was making it impossible to finish a meal. I was having all kinds of abdominal and chest pain causing me to be concerned that something really wrong was happening. So, I finally contacted my school medical staff for assistance in getting to a hospital.

This became quite a production. The apartment complex management had to be involved in order for me to leave the compound and be transported to the hospital. There were no taxis – the whole city was locked down. A volunteer in PPE had to accompany us in an ambulance to the hospital and facilitate our experience as interpreter and guide. (The ambulance was operated by a single person who clearly was just a driver, not trained emergency personnel.) I had to walk the 1/4 mile to the south gate of the complex to get to the ambulance (not sure why it couldn’t come get me). Once at the ambulance, I had to crawl into it in a really awkward way with no assistance. No gurney or sliding smoothly in. The volunteer in PPE, DaddyBird, and myself rode to the nearest international hospital. (Don’t get too excited by the word “international” here because it denotes very little as near as I can tell.) Our volunteer spoke to people to figure out where we should go. Not the emergency entrance, even though I was having chest pain and difficulty breathing. It was another entrance a long walk down the side of the building. We asked about a wheelchair and our volunteer went off to see about it. We had to rent a wheelchair for 60.00 RMB. I was put through a few tests – blood test, CT scan – before being admitted to inpatient.

Up on the inpatient floor, everything was locked down. Everything was bare bones. I had a double room to myself with an ensuite bathroom, but there was no soap or towels (not even paper towels) provided. Toilet paper was included, thank goodness. There was a thin blanket on the rock hard bed and a flat pillow. That was it. No water pitcher or glass to drink from. No amenities whatsoever. The family of a patient is expected to stay with the patient and provide care – food, water, etc. If DaddyBird stayed with me, he would be under lock down in the hospital room, so we decided that he should go home and I would go it alone.

The food was terrible. Beyond terrible.

I spent four days never leaving the hospital room. The only diagnostic tests that were done were ones that could be done in the room. The doctor did no physical examination. She spoke Chinese to the school nurse over the phone and I was told almost nothing. The tests kept coming back normal. The doctor did, however, manage to send my blood pressure soaring by meddling with my medication for no good reason. At the end of the four days, she decided that I had a pulmonary infection, despite the fact that there was no evidence of this, but it was something she could throw antibiotics at, so that is the diagnosis she chose out of thin air. I was just glad to get out of there.

After our citywide lock down ended, I went to a clinic with a doctor who is a native English speaker. By then, I had added blood clot in my left leg to my list of ailments. Together we figured out that my cough was lingering because of low grade sinusitis, my acid reflux could be controlled with a pill, and that I have sleep apnea contributing to the whole mess. After those were identified/addressed, I still had generalized constant abdominal pain. The CT scan, way back in January, had shown fluid build up in my abdomen. The hospital doctor thought this was nothing and would just go away. Not true. So, after many ultrasound scans and another CT scan, I was advised that the fluid should be drained and tested for cancer. (Time stamp: we are now in late March.) In America, this would be an outpatient procedure, but not in China. Nothing invasive is done outpatient. Several days went by as first we had to schedule the CT scan, then we had to schedule a consult with the oncologist about the CT scan. In this consultation, I learned nearly nothing I hadn’t already known. This oncologist referred me to another new doctor, just arrived from studying in the States who knew some English. I stupidly got my hopes up.

Having previously been through two inpatient hospital experiences that were supposed to diagnose my problem and having come out of both of these experiences with wrong diagnoses, I was not eager to head back into another inpatient experience of indeterminate length only to come out with another bad diagnosis. Several of my symptoms point to congestive heart failure. Only one points to cancer. I don’t want to waste my time on something I don’t have. Been there, done that.

But we met with the next doctor. Her English was quite rough. She started by telling me that she knew all about my case, which she did not. She had decided that my problem was probably ovarian cancer because of my age and because of something that showed on the CT scan. I told her to go ahead and test for cancer, but that I think I have a heart problem, so when the cancer tests come out negative, I go home. To her credit, she asked why I thought I have a heart problem and actually looked at the medical records to see what I was talking about. She decided that we should immediately do an ultrasound of my ovaries to check her theory. We did and her theory was shot down. We left that appointment with the agreement that I would be admitted to inpatient care for draining the abdominal fluid and performing tests, but it would have to wait until after the Qing Ming holiday (because Chinese hospitals do not provide 24/7/365 medical care like USA hospitals do. Their lab technicians don’t work weekends or holidays.) This meant that the earliest I could be admitted was Thursday. Wednesday, the nurse confirmed the admission, asked some questions, and asked me to write up a medical history for the doctor. Remember, this doctor started by saying she knew all about my case. So, I wrote up my medical history and submitted it. Finally, someone was asking about important things. Later that evening, I was told that the doctor now refused to treat me. She dressed it up as concern for my welfare. There was no cardiac department in her hospital, so if I had a heart issue, I should go to another hospital. I was furious. I still am. She wasted a whole week of my time making me wait for her while I continued to swell up and drown in my own juices.

So, Friday, we saw yet another doctor.

The outpatient appointment was at 9:30. It was a bit of a cattle call. So many people there is no place to sit. We stand outside the doctor’s door waiting. There is no such thing as heating/cooling in Chinese hospitals, so it is a bit sweltering. I was afraid I was going to faint before I could get in. My name finally appears on the screen above the door, but that does not seem to mean I can go in because there is still someone else in there. A man just slipped in there ahead of us, because that is what people do. Our facilitator nurse went in and left us standing in the hallway for a long time. When she came out, she indicated we still needed to wait and I say “I have to sit.” The only place we can find to sit is far away. Finally, we get in to see the doctor, but the guy before us was still wrapping up his business with the doctor. Finally, he leaves and the doctor can go over my case with the nurse and look at my medical file. A woman and young man forced their way into the room and interrupted the doctor because they have papers they want to have signed. At first, I thought they were mother and son, but no, he had his own papers he wanted signed. As these two exit having gotten their signatures, three more pushed in. I burst out laughing. It was like watching the Three Stooges. Luckily, the doctor wised up and pushed them out of the room. I told DaddyBird that he better stand in front of the door to stop any more interlopers .

We managed an actual, uninterrupted physical exam. The doctor indicated that I should be admitted to have the fluid drained and tested. She gave us several slips for additional tests to have done that day before we left. And I kept my mouth shut about cancer versus heart problem. I decided to wait until I am safely checked in before I rock that boat.

We had arrived at 9:30. We were still going around the hospital getting various tests done three hours later. The CT and ultrasound could not be scheduled until 4 pm. We went home so I could take a nap before coming back to complete the tasks. The CT scan went fairly quickly, but was done in an alleyway.

The ultrasound waiting room was full of people. There was a number system and a screen showing what numbers were currently up. There were approximately 150 people scheduled before me. It took 2 hours to finally complete the ultrasound.

(Time stamp of this saga: April 8th.)

Posted by Kanga. Please do not reblog.

For a couple of years now I have wanted to purchase an electric wheelchair. It proved to be very challenging. I could find what I wanted with online shopping, but this is the kind of purchase you don’t really want to do online. You need to sit in it. Make sure it fits (especially in a country where the average person is half your size). You want to test drive it. Therefore, I needed to find a store where I could see multiple models.

Sounds easy, right?

I had trouble finding stores by searching the internet in English. It just wasn’t happening. So, I thought a medical clinic will know where I can get this. I made an appointment with a neurologist at the last clinic where I had been seen. The clinic is fairly new, so they hadn’t arranged for large medical equipment before, so it took them a while to look into it. They also submitted a request to my medical insurance. The insurance company would only cover a manual wheelchair and turned me down for that, even. The clinic called me on the phone to tell me they had found an electric wheelchair for me which cost RMB 5000.00, would I like to buy it. Over the phone? Sight unseen? Uh, no. I would be better off getting the one from the online source. So, the clinic sent me an email with a picture and the chair’s specs. I still felt like I was being offered a pig in a poke.

I finally got smart and asked my Chinese coworker to help me find a store with multiple models where I could go in person and try them out.

We went. The shop owners didn’t speak any English, but we managed with reading the tags, sitting in different models, and doing a tiny test drive in the small space available. We then signaled that we wanted this model. The clerk showed us how it works – folding it up, how the charger connects, how the controller is attached, how to disengage the motors so it can be pushed. I had been waiting and wanting this for 2 years, so I took the plunge.

It is definitely a transition. Shanghai is not a very wheelchair friendly city. The stores or restaurants I can access are very few. I need to go to a new dentist, but I need my husband to go first and scope it out to see if I can go by chair or have to walk. Is there a ramp? Is there an elevator? Are there steps up to the elevator?

I had thought I would be able to arrange for a driver to get me and the chair to work, so that the driver could be accustomed to the chair and how to put it in the trunk. Nope. Not easy.

So, I had to figure out what route I can take to drive the chair itself to and from work. The sidewalks on our street have a significant section where the sidewalk is barely passable by foot and impossible by chair, so that would mean being in the street itself. Not what I want to be doing. So, there is a pedestrian path along a waterway, so I take that instead. Then I travel down a sidewalk along a major street crossing two intersections. However, I found a couple of obstacles. One intersection has the lowered curbs, but the curb is still too high for the chair. For a while I would stop, turn off the chair, get out of the chair, disengage the motors so that I could push the chair over the curb. The second obstacle is a driveway which I have to cross that is both steep and mounded. Going toward work, I can manage it, but coming the other direction gravity just pulls the chair down the slope and toward the very busy street. After a few days of trying to deal with these challenges, I switched the route to just avoid them. My route is a little longer, but safer. I now travel down a pedestrianized street instead.

The other obstacles are other people. People on scooters. People parking on sidewalks.

Then there is the challenge of getting in and out of our apartment building as the ramp is sometimes blocked by cars or scooters.

The apartment management has been notified and has promised to put up signage – that sad little orange sign in the upper left corner of the picture is it. For about 24 hours these yellow lines were present, but they disappeared. So, I just keep taking pictures when the ramp is blocked and reporting it.

For the most part, I only use the chair to get to and from work. I’ve been to the nearby department store once. That was the most pleasant shopping trip I’ve had in a long time. I wasn’t exhausted or in pain.

I haven’t ventured onto the metro, yet. Maybe that’s the next transition adventure.