Investigating the Peruvian Healthcare System

In the last day, we have had a little too much excitement on our trip for my taste. As I mentioned, Wyatt got himself a cold as one of his souvenirs in Ica. With his asthma, we always have to be particularly careful about staying on top of Wyatt's colds. I had brought decongestant, rescue inhalers, and a nebulizer just in case, however, I neglected to check the voltage on the nebulizer before we left on our trip. The voltage on it is 115, a sort of unusual type that no one had the correct converter for. The house staff managed to come up with a 110-120 V converter which seemed to work....for awhile. Around 5 p.m., the nebulizer quit working and nothing would persuade it to start again. The day had been fairly stressful as I felt like Wyatt was on the verge of developing bronchitis which of course then very easily leads to pneumonia. The night before, we had spent about two hours watching Looney Toons in Spanish while I tried to keep him in an upright position. Having the nebulizer had reassured me that things would get better, but when it stopped working, my heart just sank. Wyatt was already a little wheezy and night tends to be the worst time for him. We didn't even have any hot water to steam up the bathroom for him as we had done in Ica. I made the supreme decision to call our house director and have him take us to the hospital for a good nebulizer treatment. Around 7 p.m., the director, Wyatt, Christin (awesome, amazing friend that she always is) and I hailed a taxi to get us to the hospital. I had no idea what I was getting Wyatt into, not knowing what the Peruvian healthcare system looked like. That's not entirely true: on our first day here, we had toured a clinic in a poor neighborhood, so bereft of supplies, the workers did not even have gloves. So my apprehension was understandable.



All in all, I am so glad we went. Wyatt got his treatment, felt immensely better, and slept like a rock last night. The experience was definitely a unique one and I'd say that Peruvian healthcare has some advantages over healthcare in the States, but I'm not ready to switch systems quite yet. First off, we very obviously went to a clinic that caters to Peruvians with money. We were the only gringos in the place which earned us a lot of stares, but no one looked destitute. Our director explained what we were there for and then did some haggling over the price of the service which needed to be paid for before anything more could happen. I don't know what occurs if you can't pay for service. We were then taken into the room where Wyatt was hooked up to the nebulizer, given his treatment, and sent on his way. All told, it took us about 35 minutes from start to finish and cost a total of 15 soles, the equivalent of-get this-five US dollars. Our director gave me the receipts saying I could ask for reimbursement from my insurance when we got back home. I could only imagine if I tried to get my 5 dollars back for a service which would have cost close to $1000 at home, being in urgent care and all.



So those were the good parts. Disturbingly though, we never actually were seen by a doctor. I heard the nurse tell him what we were doing, but he didn't give Wyatt an examination. Having dealt with this so many times, I was pretty positive that there was no pneumonia going on but it would have been nice to have an educated opinion. Also, the nurses (I guess they were nurses) kept asking me what kind of medicine to give him which I guess makes some sense, but again, I was hoping a doctor could make that determination. No one took his temperature, rather relying on the old hand-on-the-forehead, and no one listened to his chest, instead giving him a few thumps on the back and telling us to have him drink hot water before sending us on our way. The clinic itself was fairly clean, but I didn't see anyone wearing gloves, though Wyatt's situation didn't necessarily warrant it.



Anyway, Wyatt is feeling much perkier now though I skipped out on our placement for the second day in a row to give his immune system some time to bulk back up. I am going to organize the supplies and books in the common room so I feel like I am contributing something. As much as I feel like I want to be here and help these less fortunate children, it's amazing how quickly that becomes such a non-issue when my own child needs something. I know kids here suffer through much more with much less medical attention, and I had the vague feeling that several Peruvians thought I was overreacting. But that's one of the realizations I have had here: when you have more, you expect more, and you become accustomed to more. And in some areas, such as education, safety, and healthcare, that's perfectly acceptable. But how to allow all people to have expectations like mine and those of the majority of developed countries? Can we give all people the best of schools, hospitals, and safe neighborhoods? Or do we need to compromise and allow everyone a modicum of comfort, but no one luxury? Or, most uncomfortable (for me anyway) is that just the way it is, "capitalism at work", "survival of the fittest", whatever cliche fits, some have at the expense of others? These are the questions we all should ask ourselves, whether it is in regards to the healthcare issue in the United States or when we decide whether to spend the extra money buying fair trade coffee. Because ultimately, we are all answering these questions with our actions, whether we are doing so consciously or not....



Jenny