The Asia Royal hospital
When we finally land in Yangon about 6 hours later, we have another 45 minutes ride to the hotel in front of us. We’re so finished we don’t even make it to a restaurant, but only to the 9th floor to the hotel restaurant. Besides, Mirko can’t walk with his clubfoot anyway. After 3 days of preaching, I finally got him to see a doctor tomorrow to have the wounds checked. Let’s see if we need to take a number.
Immediately after our arrival at the Asia Royal Hospital, which was warmly recommended to us by the hotel staff, we are allowed to march through to the emergency room. At the entrance there are two large desks, each with a doctor and two assistants, in the back area there is another table with lots of nurses. Since we’re the only white ones so far, I feel that we’re treated really preferentially. We’ll probably pay three times the price. After describing the disease to the emergency reception staff, 2 doctors and 2 assistants look at Micro’s leg and swollen foot at the same time and discuss possible diagnoses. Then Mirko is asked on an old rusty couch behind a shabby blue curtain, where now 3 nurses take care of him, measure his blood pressure and mother him. I can’t shake the feeling that everyone wants to touch the white man.
Since the 2 doctors and 2 assistants do not agree on Micko’s illness, the professor is appointed immediately. When I think about the cost of insurance for chief physician treatment in Germany, I feel sick. But anyway, we just trust Burma’s healthcare system. Miracles happen here every day.
Whether we have wandered through bushes they want to know and where exactly we have traveled in the country. It could be a strange mosquito whose English name nobody can tell me. Well, several bushes and whole forests I would say and we certainly got enough mosquito bites. But we were on the road together the whole time and I didn’t get any gaping flesh wounds.
Since we have to wait 2 hours for the professor, we pass the time with mobile games in the corridor and observe the hospital life. The equipment here is really from the pre-war period, in the emergency room there are single boxes with blue curtains around them and the complete medical equipment is at the maximum level of the 70s. The professor comes earlier than expected and Mirko seems to be the highlight of the day. As the only white man not only the professor 2 doctors and 2 assistants flock around him, but also numerous nurses.
By the way, the professor is particularly interested in Micro’s tongue piercing. Even he hasn’t seen that yet and for a short moment he is wondering if this can’t be the cause of the infection in Micro’s body. But after Mirko asserts that he has had this for 20 years, this cause is off the table.
This is followed by a general medical examination. The professor says that the wounds on Mirkos leg are probably caused by bacteria. But to be on the safe side, he’d like to do a blood test. On the one hand he wants to check if it really is not blood poisoning and on the other hand he wants to make sure that no thrombosis forms in the leg when we fly home. Samples are also taken from Micro’s wounds and the results will be sent to us by e‑mail in 5 days. We can pick up the results of the blood test in 2 hours and in addition Mirko gets some good advice like eating healthy, losing weight and keeping a photo diary about the wound healing for our german doctor.
Now, however, the wounds are thoroughly cleaned and treated with an antibiotic cream, which he should now apply twice a day. By the way, this is very interesting for the Burmese, who lies behind the blue curtain and always sticks his head out to take a look at the fat white man. I’m glad Mirko made his day.
He also gets a penicillin antibiotic in tablet form. Micko’s first official act, by the way, is to ask Dr. Google what kind of antibiotics you are no longer allowed to drink alcohol with. Luckily, a cool Myanmar beer is still in it at the end of the trip. At the end of the treatment, a complete patient book was created for Mirko, 4 pages full, several notes were stapled on the right and left and even drawings of the wound were made. With what is written and tacked here all day long they at least can employ 5 people. By the way, you won’t see a computer here anywhere.
All the fun costs us exactly 147 dollars plus medication, we are one experience richer and a total of 170 dollars poorer. Well, I am curious how the German travel health insurance will translate the Burmese documents when we submit the invoice there.
When we come back after 2 hours the results of the blood test are there, Mirko has no blood poisoning, the kidney values are good and he may take the antibiotic and we do not have to worry about a thrombosis. I don’t remember any of my doctors checking my kidney values before prescribing me an antibiotic. I’ve never been looked after so well by a German doctor. Either it’s because we pay cash, or it’s typical Myanmar again. The country that surprises you every day.
Next: Through the Streets of Yangon: The Shwedagon Pagoda