Visiting a foreign hospital is never ideal, and you never know what you're going to get or which hospital you should go to. This is my experience taking my two-year-old and my 5-month-old baby to a Vietnamese hospital.
With so many people touching the boys, it's hard to know where this infection started. However, we are definitely going to be more careful in the future.
A started running a low fever last week, and it only lasted about 24 hours. Then he had some drainage that we didn't know about because it wasn't coming out of his nose, but he started coughing stuff up. His cough progressed so much that he was vomiting up mucus. I was thinking about taking him to the hospital, but then his cough got much better, and I thought he was doing okay.
At the same time, O's nose was running, and we couldn't keep it clean. His runny nose was his first symptom, and two days later he started running a fever of 101. He ran that temperature for four days.
The night before we went to the hospital, A was screaming on and off for four hours straight at bedtime, until about 2:30 in the morning. That same morning was O's fourth day of running a high fever, so I finally decided to take them to the hospital.
The question was: which one?
Nick went to work, and I prepared a bag. As I was getting ready to go, I came down with a lot of anxiety over the whole situation and realized that I couldn't do this by myself, so I asked Nick to come home and come with us.
We decided to visit the Vietnamese international hospital because the cost was significantly lower, and a friend had visited there with their son and had a good experience.
The moment we walked through the door, we were greeted by an English interpreter. We told her what was wrong, and she started the process of getting us checked in. Both boys took a COVID test, which was negative, and then we headed upstairs to see the doctor.
We didn't wait very long to see the doctor. It was very interesting because the doctor and nurse stayed in the rooms while the patients came in and out, which was much different from what we're used to in America.
The doctor examined both boys and told us that A was much worse off than O. She wanted him to see an ophthalmologist and dermatologist and have an X-ray. Both boys also needed to visit the ENT, have blood drawn, and take a flu test.
Luckily, all of those doctors were on the same floor and right next to each other. There were no long lines to wait in, and everything was pretty easy, especially with our amazing interpreter.
First up was the blood draw and flu test. Both boys did that, and their flu tests came back negative.
Then we visited the ophthalmologist. She examined A's eyes and told us that he had conjunctivitis. She massaged his eyes, taught me how to do it, and gave me instructions to do it once every day.
After that, we went to the dermatologist and had a long conversation about A's skin. She believed that he had eczema and gave me creams and ointments to treat it. We were supposed to go back in two weeks.
Next up was the X-ray, and that took about two seconds. I held A down while they quickly took an X-ray of his chest. Not even five minutes later, they handed us his X-ray, and we went to lunch.
After lunch, we went to the ENT, and both boys had their ears, nose, and throat scoped.
A was up first. He had a lot of wax, so they had to clean out his ears. They quickly discovered that he had two severe middle ear infections with pus, and they were very worried about them rupturing.
O was up next, and it was a huge struggle to hold him down. It took me and a male nurse to hold him still. He had an ear infection on one side, but it was not severe. They prescribed antibiotics for both boys.
After the ENT, we went back to the doctor, who reviewed all of the results with us. The boys had very high white blood cell counts, which meant they had an infection, so they were both going to be put on antibiotics.
A also had bronchitis, and the doctor told me that he needed to stay in the hospital for five to seven days because he was so young and had a lot of things going on at once.
However, they didn't have any room to accommodate him there and asked me to go to a different hospital and have him admitted.
Our interpreter helped us call three other hospitals, and none of them had room.
We finally called the French hospital that had been recommended to us by another friend, and they happened to have space.
Nick and I decided to divide and conquer. He would take the scooter home and pack a bag for A and me, then come back to the hospital and take O home.
When I got to the emergency room at the French hospital, I gave them all of my paperwork. They told me that I had to go through the process of seeing the doctor again so she could verify the information and make the decision about whether we needed to be admitted.
They quickly took us back, checked A, and we met with the doctor all within about 15 minutes.
She examined him and noticed how happy he was. Although he had two severe ear infections, overall he was doing okay.
She asked me if I would prefer to stay in the hospital or go home.
I told her that because I had an older son who also needed medicine and attention, it would be much better for me to be at home with both of my boys.
She agreed and told me she would give me three days. If anything happened or changed, I needed to come back before then.
I was so happy with this news because I was having some serious PTSD. I really did not want to experience hospital time with A in a different country.
Both boys were champs during this whole crazy and hectic day.
O was held down several times while they put things up his nose, in his ears, down his throat, and drew blood from his arm. After the first time, he learned very quickly that he did not want to enter any new room and would fight us every time we tried to go in.
Luckily, most of the appointments were for A.
Now one of O's new sentences is:
“A's turn!”
It's pretty cute.
Giving them medicine before meals, after meals, in between hours—blah, blah, blah—is so hard, and it wears on you. I'm exhausted just from being a mom nurse.
So far, the meds are not going well. I have to hold O down and use a syringe to get the medicine into his mouth. A throws up his medicine less than a minute after taking it.
Overall, we have been changing clothes and diapers about five times a day because of throw-up or diarrhea, so it is just NO FUN!
