So Much Walking, That Is, Going to the Doctor in China

I’ve had the joy of going to the doctor twice in the last few weeks (the flu sucks), so I thought I’d write about what it’s like to do so here in China!

Our old-school thermometer, the only option at our local pharmacy;

my flu medication, conveniently labeled in English as well as Chinese;

and my oh-so-handy hospital card

The first surprise is that China doesn’t do family doctors or small clinics much. If you have a cold or earache or strep throat or broke a bone, doesn’t matter, you go to the hospital. The bigger the hospital, the better the care.

Checking in at the hospital involves the receptionist putting your personal information into the computer and issuing you a card. When this card is swiped anywhere in the hospital, the medical personnel can see your information and history. It also keeps track of your bill. You keep this card and can use it on future hospital visits to make things go even faster.

(Unfortunately my lengthy full name is difficult for most Chinese people to spell, even when they’re copying it out of my passport. Poor receptionist got n and h mixed up, so I’ll be getting a new card next time I go.)

Checking in also means paying to see the doctor, which has cost about 10 to 12 RMB every time I have gone to the hospital. That’s the equivalent than less than 2 U.S. dollars.

Let me say that again. TWO. DOLLARS. To see the doctor. Why do I even need insurance?

Then it’s time to find the doctor. When you feel like crap, which you usually do when you are at the hospital, this is the super-not-fun part. You have to find the right floor, the right department, and the right line to get in. When they call your number you can go in to the doctor. Along with, you know, a few other people.

Because the Chinese don’t really do lines or privacy the same way we do in the West. Lines are more like crowds, and if you aren’t assertive you won’t get to the front or what you want. The number system helps with this a bit in the hospital setting, but there’s still no concern for patient privacy or confidentiality. I’m told to go in to see the doctor when there are still one or two patients in the room ahead of me, and the next person (or people) in line behind me will be present during my entire consultation.

At first this is rather infuriating as an American, but then you remember you only paid two bucks, and you already feel terrible anyway, so you let it go.

After the doctor listens and looks you over, he or she will tell you to go get blood work done. Every time. They always take your blood. First step is to pay, so you go find a little kiosk where you swipe your hospital card and pay about 100 RMB (about $15 US), and it prints a receipt for you. Then you traverse across the hospital to wherever they draw blood, wait in line, show your receipt, and get the blood sucked out of your arm.

Processing blood results takes about an hour, so my husband and I typically go get something to eat and then come back to the hospital. To get the results, just go up to one of those kiosks, scan your card, and it will print them for you. Next step is to take your blood work results back to the doctor you saw earlier. You don’t have to get a number and wait in line, you can just walk in on whoever is in there, doesn’t matter.

Once the doctor sees your blood results, he or she will diagnose you and prescribe some medicine. Prescription in hand, it’s time to pay again! At those convenient little kiosks! With your convenient little card! Once you have this receipt you can make your way to the pharmacy part of the hospital, wait in line, and collect your drugs.

Then, finally, finally, you can go home!

While going to the doctor in the U.S. is always a lot of waiting, going to the doctor in China is a lot of walking. Since you’re sick, this means someone always goes with you to help you find all the places (even if you don’t need a translator). Chinese hospitals are built for crowds, and in my experience are fast and efficient, though at the expense of my privacy and energy.

But for so cheap, I really can’t complain.