My Portuguese Hospital Experience

The omnipresent ocean is no reason to feel any fear. For a proper Dutchie like me it is the mountains I should watch out for.

Anastasia tells me, “You look pale through your tan.” We are registering at the Funchal Hospital and the next thing we know we are sitting in an over-crowded waiting room with too little chairs. The next thing we know we are still sitting there. The next thing we know we are waiting. The next thing… should I go on?

Surprise: the mood is good! Although moaning patients get rolled around in hospital beds, the nurses still breath the Madeiran “calme.” The X-Ray people are particularly nice and after making some thorough pictures of every side of my lower arm give me a reassuring smile. Or was it one out of pity? Before I can ask them about the picture they gently push me out of the door. Wait for the doctor.

The doctor is the most relaxed of all. He takes a stroll around the hospital halls like there are not 15 people waiting for him. But he is also very friendly. And his professional advice? “What you will need is ice. Some for your wound and a lot for the poncha tonight.”

Just chill out and have a poncha. There’s some life advice for me.

And now? I’m afraid my bad luck might be spreading… Hanna over to you! A reassuring thought: Albino is absolutely the smoothest driver I have encountered and will get you to the hospital in no time. Thanks!


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