Interesting Visit to the Hospital

Don't worry, I'm just fine! I did however, take a little trip to Nairobi Hospital a couple of days after returning from Isiolo. It seems I must have eaten or taken a drink of something I shouldn't have, even though I was careful. A little action out both ends was something I could handle, but when I got a serious dizzy spell which I thought was going to make me pass out, I got a little concerned. I got a taxi and went to Nairobi Hospital to get checked out.
The flow of the hospital wasn't exactly user friendly, and I ended up having to get directions 3 times just to get to check in. At numbered window number 1, I had to give my name, but no identification. The man did not ask what I was there for, just simply handed me a piece of paper and a card with my name on it and told me to get in line at windows 4 or 5. I got in line again to hand in my paper and give them 2,000 KES (about 26 USD) to see the doctor and got assigned #399. After paying up, I waited for some time for someone to call my name. A trip to the restroom while I was trying to be patient led me to find all three stalls of the restroom without toilet paper. Soap was also absent at the sink. Thank goodness I have learned to carry toilet paper and hand sanitizer with me wherever I go.
When my number was finally called, I went into the triage room where I listed my symptoms and had my blood pressure & temperature checked. Temp was done by sticking an oral digital thermometer that didn't look so clean under my armpit. Mmmmm. I had to ask if I had a fever, since sadly, I couldn't remember how to convert celsius to degrees. After finding I had no fever, the woman took me back to what seemed to be the emergency room. Sort of like in the states, there was an island for doctors and nurses in the center and single rooms with curtains around the perimeter.
I tried to settle in while I waited nearly 30 minutes for a woman to come over and ask if I had been seen yet. She collected a little symptom info from me and stated she would be giving me an IV. She got a dinged up looking plastic tray of supplies and set it down on the chair next to me. I cringed at the cleanliness factor and watched carefully to make sure objects to be inserted in my body did not get contaminated from the package to my vein. When the woman, and I say woman instead of nurse cause I'm not sure she was one, stuck the needle in my hand, I noticed a bit more pain then I recall with an IV & groaned a bit. "It hurts," she asked as I nodded my head while clenching my jaw. I decided not to look as I thought that would make it worse. She ended up drawing blood and then removing the needle instead of attaching the IV to it. Why, you ask? Oh, because she blew out my freakin' vein and the back of my hand was a sea of black and blue.
The doctor arrived and put a line in my other hand with ease. Thank goodness! After a minute of questions, he said they would run some tests, but in the mist of all that, somehow the topic of homosexuality came up. He asked where I was from and when I told him America, he asked me how I felt about homosexuals. I'm not sure if he was trying to figure out if I was, or make some sort of "light" conversation. I know that homosexuality is illegal here and if you are lucky enough to be deported for it, you can save yourself from being put in jail or beaten and killed by the locals.
I decided not to put myself in a compromising position and simply stated, "I think that as long as you're not hurting anyone, you should be able to live your life." That didn't seem to pacify him, as he continued on, seemingly trying to educate me on the "fact" that the dominant gay man finds a partner for a month and after having sex with the man everyday, the non-dominant man's butt becomes too loose, and the dominant man leaves to find another man with a tight butt. Yes, yes he did say that. I couldn't keep myself from laughing as I told him that I didn't believe that was true. Of course, he insisted and told me that his doctor friend sees patients all the time who can't even walk around without shitting themselves because their butts are so loose from anal sex. "Why do you think women have vaginal rejuvenation?!" he asked rhetorically. I just insinuated that I didn't think he had all the correct information, but decided it was a bit pointless to argue.
Quite a bit of time went by and my blood samples still sat next to me. Finally, someone arrived and asked if I had insurance or was paying cash. I told them I had traveler's insurance, but apparently I need to get reimbursed for that and so I had to pay up front. Get that? ....... they wouldn't run my tests until I paid for them first, which is why they were sitting there. Ha, no wonder they don't need my ID!
At a few points I needed to wander down the hall to a bathroom, which was not in the condition one would like to find a hospital bathroom. It had a bed in there with sheets that looked like they'd been slept in, and a whole bunch of enema equipment on a tray, some seeming to have been opened. There was barely any toilet paper, and I had to pump multiple times to get what was left of the soap. The trash can had hazardous materials in it, just open for anyone to come in contact with. This hospital would be condemned in the states.
I got released after 7-8 hours with 4 prescriptions to calm my stomach and the explanation that I must have had something bad to eat or drink. Uh, ya think?! But I figure the money I paid was worth that informational piece on homosexuality. I'm glad I had an educated professional to explain it to me! lol! All is well now! :) I just advise not getting ill in Kenya. P.S. I was told that was the better hospital! Lol!