Learning about Swedish health care, the hard way

I don't have the best luck when it comes to random injuries. That list would include breaking my hand on a doorknob, chipping my tooth on a fork, getting run over by an electric wheelchair, and probably a few more stupid incidents that my friends and family could help fill-in. I was a key player in chipping my sister's front tooth with my rear when I was about 10. Last summer, I managed to take out a bird, mid-flight, with my tee shot, unceremoniously joining the ranks of Rob Lowe. The list goes on. Last week, my misfortune was the influenza vaccine.

This all started when I found out that it would cost about $300 per appointment to continue my allergy injections here in Stockholm, which I need every two weeks to build up my tolerance. Since that plan was squashed by 10 a.m. on Thursday morning, I decided to check off another to-do item and visit the influenza vaccination clinic across the hall. I get a flu shot every year without much trouble, so in no way did I consider the possibility of having a bad reaction. But from the way my head was starting to hurt by the time I arrived home, it was clear that I should have.

I managed to fall asleep on Thursday night (thanks, Tylenol PM), but the headache was even worse when I woke up, and things continued to go downhill from there. After 30 hours of constant pain, and six hours of regular vomiting, Scott's mom called and told me of her similar experience, which was all the encouragement it took to convince me to stagger down the hill to the emergency room, which is only a few blocks from our apartment.

We paid a flat fee of about $40, and were soon thereafter admitted. The Swedish doctors I've seen have been fabulous. Specifically, they take their time to talk, which I've found to be a nice difference from being rushed through the U.S. appointment book. After doing blood tests and checking my heart, lungs, reflexes, balance and coordination (where I managed to stick my finger in my eye in an attempt to touch my nose with my eyes closed), they determined that the problem was all in my head, literally. Although the doctors were fairly certain the severe headache was from the vaccination, they weren't sure how to explain the vomiting, so I was kept overnight, given an IV and scheduled for a CAT scan in the morning. The IV provided nearly immediate relief from the migraine-times-10 throbbing in my head, and allowed me to keep some food down, too. And I should mention, Swedish nurses were not only wonderfully kind, but also great with needles. My tiny veins very much appreciated their handiwork.

Things were going well until I had to use the bathroom, when the pressure in my vein took over and started to fill my IV tube with blood. It really isn't a problem, except it made me quite dizzy. I've had a few similar reactions while giving blood, but I think the painkillers I was on only added to the problem. The first time this happened, the nurse came and took care of the problem. The second time - yes, there was a second time - I wasn't so lucky, and fainted while rounding a corner during my six-foot walk back to the bed. I managed to crash my IV cart into the wall, run shoulder first into a cabinet, hit my knees on the ground and somehow, thankfully, only smashed my chin on the ground. I still have my teeth intact, so despite a few additional bruises, it could certainly be worse. Plus, the crash was even more reason to have the scheduled CAT scan on Saturday.

The worst part was actually just waiting around in the room itself. Swedish hospitals apparently do not have TVs in the patient rooms. Plus, I was stuck in a four-person room with the woman who snored, and a woman who made sporadic sleep-noises. But I can't really complain, since they both hit their emergency call buttons when I crashed my cart. Speaking as someone who had a terrible headache though, I will complain about the woman who joined our room around 8 a.m. (visiting hours don't start until 1 p.m.), and had a posse of no fewer than five people, all constantly talking at once. Scott took great care of me, and brought me a fresh shirt, plenty of books, as well as his iPod and such to keep me amused. Unfortunately he forgot to include the earplugs though, so I was very thankful for the painkillers I was given on Saturday to help with the lingering headache. The Chatty Cathys across from my bed continued all day, which was longer than necessary because the Friday doctor had forgotten to schedule me for the CAT scan. When it was finally my turn to be carted downstairs, roller-bed style, it was practically a one-hour wait in the hallway, a three-minute scan, and then one-hour wait for the ride back. Really, I could've easliy pushed my own bed back upstairs, but not waiting in the queue would have been very un-Swedish of me.

Twenty-four hours and four meals later (including some Swedish meatballs), the Saturday doctor stopped by to tell us that my CAT scan results were normal, and I was given the okay to go. If the headache isn't gone in one week, she said, then I should come back in. Seriously, a week?!

Now, with any luck, we're hoping there isn't another medical bill on the way. Based on what we know of the Swedish health system, we're fairly sure there won't be another bill, but it just seems too good to be true.