Jerry meets Great Britain's National Health Service
Yesterday I had my second encounter with non-U.S. health care. Katy and I were exploring St. Katherine’s Marina, one of the places we might possibly spend next winter with Idril. It’s a small marina behind a lock in the heart of London, a short distance from the Tower Bridge and much, much more. We borrowed an access card to the floating docks in the marina, and as we were just about done exploring, I slipped on the wet dock (it was raining) and fell, hitting my right shoulder and elbow.
I immediately knew that my shoulder had been wrenched. Katy helped me up, and I tried moving my right arm. It worked, but it hurt, and I didn’t have as much strength in it as usual. At this point I wasn’t worried at all about my elbow; in fact, I hadn’t even noticed that I had hit it. It was only after we returned the access card to the marina office that I noticed that my right elbow felt wet. It was blood, not rain.
I peeled off my raincoat and sweater, and the elbow of my white sunshirt was bright red. Katy helped me out of the shirt, and we discovered a deep cut, right on the elbow.
The marina staff were great. They helped me clean up the wound, while Katy took my bloody clothing to the bathroom for a quick rinse. They fetched their first aid kit, and after Katy used some tape to piece me at least temporarily back together, they pointed us to Guy’s Hospital, a short walk away.
We had no trouble locating the Urgent Care department, and the triage desk had me fill out a ridiculously short form, providing my name, address, birth date, phone number and email address, and a short description of my reason for being there. I noted that I was still bleeding and could use a gauze pad; within minutes someone arrived in the waiting room to tape on a bandage.
I waited about 20 minutes, and was then ushered into a treatment room. The nurse practitioner took a quick history, did a bunch of range of motion tests on my shoulder, looked at the gash in the elbow, and sent me up stairs to radiology for an X-ray.
We waited for about 5 minutes in the radiology waiting room before I was called. The X-ray technician (and accompanying student; Guy’s is a teaching hospital) positioned my elbow and took pictures, then sent me back to urgent care.
We barely had time to sit down in the urgent care waiting room before my name was again called, and I returned to the same treatment room (and nurse practitioner) as before. The X-rays were already up on the screen of her computer.
.
There was no sign of any broken bone or foreign object, so she administered some local anesthetic and proceeded to sew up my arm.
She then put on a non-stick dressing and wrapped my arm in gauze wrap. I was told to minimize the amount of bending of that elbow for a few days, and have the stitches looked at in about a week for evaluation and possible removal. Regarding the shoulder, she thought there MIGHT be some rotator cuff involvement, but suggested waiting a few days to see how it felt.
I asked about providing insurance information; in theory, my Medigap policy provides coverage outside the U.S. I was told that was a nice offer, but medical care from the NHS is provided without charge. Wow.
