On illness and hospitals and all that fun stuff...

​The flu hit our house just before Christmas. It hit hard and it took no prisoners. Just kicked us in the teeth (and the hips and the back and the head and every other possible aching thing) and threw us to the sofa.  All three of us at once.  Not fun.
 
Billy ended up with respiratory complications and we went to the ER twice in 24 hours.  They gave him breathing treatments both times, did chest xrays and took blood tests and we don’t even know what else. No pneumonia, but some sort of upper respiratory infection to add to the awesome flu symptoms. 
 
Illness in another country is never fun. Not that illness is ever fun, but at least in your home culture you speak the language fluently and you know the system.  In another country, not so much.  The one good thing we hear every time is, “You speak Spanish? Thank goodness. Well at least you speak the language.” Yes, we speak the language. But sometimes medical lingo is pretty specialized and we have to fumble around for the vocabulary that fits the situation.
 
Illness is never fun. Illness + insurance issues + culture + language barriers = YUCK!