In a previous post, I mentioned a misunderstanding with the paediatrician after I gave birth. This is the story of how our Father used that misunderstanding in a way we didn't expect.
I gave birth in a small private hospital on the other side of Istanbul. This meant that other than my doctor, who was an 'outside doctor' who doesn't work for that hospital but works with a couple of different hospitals, no one spoke English.
We thought we'd managed to communicate with the midwives, nurses and the paediatrician successfully (after reminding them a few times, particularly the paediatrician, to speak slowly). The paediatrician wanted us to bring S back for a check up, as is normal here, and was throwing a few different days around. I was convinced he said cumartesi (Saturday). However when we dutifully turned up on the Saturday for our appointment (bearing in mind this was 3 days after I'd given birth, going back on the metro to the other side of Istanbul), he told us we'd come two days early and he'd said to come on pazartesi (Monday).
So much for communicating successfully. I should have been more careful and clarified what he'd said, considering I was rather tired having only had about 1.5 hours sleep and then had a baby. But I hadn't. Oops. The doctor did the check up anyway, but according to the doctor, S was meant to have another blood test, which couldn't be done at that point because it was too early. However, we were told that it could be done at the sağlık ocağı, which is the local health centre.
At the time, I was really frustrated with myself. Why hadn't I double checked the day with the doctor when usually I clarify information like that? We'd dragged ourselves (plus my mum, sister and J) over to the Asian side two days earlier than necessary, which seemed like a waste of one of the few days my sister had with us. And then I had to figure out what exactly the blood test was that S needed - thanks to a couple of friends I worked out that it was a second heel prick test - and how to get it done.
I waited until the Monday, messaged the doctor who J was registered under, who told me to contact the nurse. The nurse told me that the doctor had actually left (however the doctor had neglected to mention this to me) but to come in on the Tuesday and meet the new doctor.
We woke on Tuesday morning to find that S had what looked like quite a nasty eye infection, but as we were heading to the health centre anyway that morning, we thought we'd try and kill two birds with one stone and ask the doctor about it while we were there.
When we turned up at the doctors, the nurse introduced us to the new doctor, who told us that he couldn't register S without an ikamet (residence permit), which we still don't have (and at that point, we didn't even have a passport for S). But the heel prick test could be done, which was a positive. However, even though the doctor couldn't officially treat S, when the nurse realised the severity of S's eye infection, she spoke to the doctor. He was kind enough to look at S's eyes anyway and gave him an unofficial prescription for antibiotics. And the nurse told us to make sure to take it to the pharmacy opposite the health centre, as they would accept it without a problem. Fast forward and with the antibiotics, S's infection eventually cleared up.
If I'd understood the paediatrician properly, we'd have gone to him on the Monday, at which point S's eye infection wasn't really obvious, and there would have been no need to arrange to take S to the local health centre. So on the Tuesday, when S really needed to see a doctor, we would have had to either try and get a last minute appointment with a hospital paediatrician or take S to the equivalent of A&E at a hospital. Both of these options would have been quite a bit more complicated and stressful, and would have taken a lot more time, energy and money.
But our Father, in his wisdom, used my language misunderstanding to provide an opportunity to see a doctor, for free and despite the fact that the doctor wasn't officially meant to be treating S, just when we needed it. (And I got a bonus lesson in humility as well.)
