as my wrist improves I shall write up my poor, and at times surreal, experience at Can Misses. Any other experiences of this hospital? I should be clear that the medical treatment seems to have been ok (tbc by my own doctor) the problem seemed to lie in my being foreign, or not helpless enough.
hurtful hospital
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i'm foreign too and all my experiences of can misses hospital and the entire health service in ibiza have been extremely positive. this goes not only for me, but for my father who on a couple of occasions needed urgent treatment at can misses using his e111 form.
the treatment he received both as a person and a patient was second to none and far better than in his own country.
the only problems that exist in the hospital are that it is inundated every summer with young people suffering from intoxication and the hospital's catchment area grows ten fold making it difficult for them to cope.
the treatment he received both as a person and a patient was second to none and far better than in his own country.
the only problems that exist in the hospital are that it is inundated every summer with young people suffering from intoxication and the hospital's catchment area grows ten fold making it difficult for them to cope.
blindmanskunk
New Member
To be honest, if i or any member of my family needed hospital treatment whilst abroad albeit Ibiza or somewhere in darkest Africa, then i'm sure it cannot be any worst than in our own UK hospital's, today. Ofwhich, it has been well documented by the british media that the treatment of patient's in some UK hospital's is amongst the poorest in europe.
dave
dave
relative helthcare merit
I am not so interested in the media's opinion of the NHS. My UK NHS experience has been pretty good, and happily not hindered by not being able to speak the lingo. However I have witnessed translators being summoned and patients having their injuries and treatment explained to them. signage in NHS hospitals is pretty good.
I arrived at Can Misses with a gloomy prognosis regarding my wrist injury, which I had gathered from the dr at Sta Eulalia might result in permanent restriction of movement. My primitive Spanish did not do me any favours, and yet I witnessed several Brits who made no attempt to speak anything but English 'they all speak English round here' being treated courteously in their native tongue. My gentle questioning about English, French and Italian resulted in curt nos from all but the dr at Sta Eulalia.
My clubbing days are over (mostly) I was sober and unecstatic. I had left my family on the beach to keep things simple. I am courteous and usually treated kindly. The ancillary staff were kind, however the doctor who dealt with me was not. I seemed to be annoying her and she was rough and careless in manner. She was angry when I asked in Spanish why my elbow hurt as the referring doctor had not written this down. I attempted to explain that I had mentioned it to him as she despatched me back to radiology. I spent over two hours at the hospital mostly in an overcrowded waiting room watching numerous staff roam the corridor only stopping to increase the numbers in the 3xm waiting room. At one point there were three wheelchair users (one doing wheelies, one asleep with smudged mascara (male) and the plaster cast german dame) two on oxygen masks, two on drips, two young girls, a lady wrapped in blanket with companion, another couple and a mustachio'd hospital gowned gent who had come off a drip. And me. Then they wheeled in another young woman with a stomach problem together with her concerned mum. It was reminiscent of blue velvet meets an overpopulated scen from a disaster movie. My elected health carer removed me from the pool and discourteously treated me once more. She told me I could leave once she had slathered me in a half-cast, passed me a written a note, illegible in any language and dumped a bunch of ibuprofen near me. I asked if she might clean the plaster from my hand and elbow. She pointed me to the sink and left the room. As I cleaned myself up, none the wiser about the long term prognosis regarding the future usefulness of my hand, I noted drawers labelled 'syringes' and 'drugs'.
I left the room disorientated, depressed and in pain. I was carrying a bag and had one arm in plaster with a sling reminiscent of a hastily constructed garotte. The exit was not indicated. The waiting room was still full, the German contingent still present. Staff chatted hither and thither. i retraced my steps and needed to put my bag down to open the heavy door. I walked through A&E reception and left the building. Noone had asked if I had any money or anyone to help me or how I would get back to my dwelling. I found myself in a carpark with no exit indicated and no pavement at the hottest time of day. I was around a mile from the only taxi rank I knew near Ibiza port, there were no buses. I had to cross several major roads and walk for 20 minutes to get into town.
Whilst I did not lose a limb or have to pay for treatment I am still reeling from this experience. I have an appointment with a hand specialist (NHS) on Tuesday.
I am trying to be grateful. I do not consider asking if someone speaks English in an area of Europe where there are many tourists to be insulting, especially since I did so in Spanish. My gentle questioning about French (I am fluent) and Italian (adequate) might indicate to some that I generally attempt to speak the local language. I can't cut it in Catalan.
The British media enjoy taking pot shots at the health service, as they do at the education system in the UK. I have three kids who are thriving in inner London Schools and know how and where to use apostrophes. My mother broke her hand recently (she's 80) and was treated well in a north London NHS hospital.
Care is usually taken to include what is sometimes referred to as people skills, and prejudice is not encouraged in developing these. I was treated with prejudice, and whilst it did not appear to affect my medical treatment it did affect the care I was given.
I am not so interested in the media's opinion of the NHS. My UK NHS experience has been pretty good, and happily not hindered by not being able to speak the lingo. However I have witnessed translators being summoned and patients having their injuries and treatment explained to them. signage in NHS hospitals is pretty good.
I arrived at Can Misses with a gloomy prognosis regarding my wrist injury, which I had gathered from the dr at Sta Eulalia might result in permanent restriction of movement. My primitive Spanish did not do me any favours, and yet I witnessed several Brits who made no attempt to speak anything but English 'they all speak English round here' being treated courteously in their native tongue. My gentle questioning about English, French and Italian resulted in curt nos from all but the dr at Sta Eulalia.
My clubbing days are over (mostly) I was sober and unecstatic. I had left my family on the beach to keep things simple. I am courteous and usually treated kindly. The ancillary staff were kind, however the doctor who dealt with me was not. I seemed to be annoying her and she was rough and careless in manner. She was angry when I asked in Spanish why my elbow hurt as the referring doctor had not written this down. I attempted to explain that I had mentioned it to him as she despatched me back to radiology. I spent over two hours at the hospital mostly in an overcrowded waiting room watching numerous staff roam the corridor only stopping to increase the numbers in the 3xm waiting room. At one point there were three wheelchair users (one doing wheelies, one asleep with smudged mascara (male) and the plaster cast german dame) two on oxygen masks, two on drips, two young girls, a lady wrapped in blanket with companion, another couple and a mustachio'd hospital gowned gent who had come off a drip. And me. Then they wheeled in another young woman with a stomach problem together with her concerned mum. It was reminiscent of blue velvet meets an overpopulated scen from a disaster movie. My elected health carer removed me from the pool and discourteously treated me once more. She told me I could leave once she had slathered me in a half-cast, passed me a written a note, illegible in any language and dumped a bunch of ibuprofen near me. I asked if she might clean the plaster from my hand and elbow. She pointed me to the sink and left the room. As I cleaned myself up, none the wiser about the long term prognosis regarding the future usefulness of my hand, I noted drawers labelled 'syringes' and 'drugs'.
I left the room disorientated, depressed and in pain. I was carrying a bag and had one arm in plaster with a sling reminiscent of a hastily constructed garotte. The exit was not indicated. The waiting room was still full, the German contingent still present. Staff chatted hither and thither. i retraced my steps and needed to put my bag down to open the heavy door. I walked through A&E reception and left the building. Noone had asked if I had any money or anyone to help me or how I would get back to my dwelling. I found myself in a carpark with no exit indicated and no pavement at the hottest time of day. I was around a mile from the only taxi rank I knew near Ibiza port, there were no buses. I had to cross several major roads and walk for 20 minutes to get into town.
Whilst I did not lose a limb or have to pay for treatment I am still reeling from this experience. I have an appointment with a hand specialist (NHS) on Tuesday.
I am trying to be grateful. I do not consider asking if someone speaks English in an area of Europe where there are many tourists to be insulting, especially since I did so in Spanish. My gentle questioning about French (I am fluent) and Italian (adequate) might indicate to some that I generally attempt to speak the local language. I can't cut it in Catalan.
The British media enjoy taking pot shots at the health service, as they do at the education system in the UK. I have three kids who are thriving in inner London Schools and know how and where to use apostrophes. My mother broke her hand recently (she's 80) and was treated well in a north London NHS hospital.
Care is usually taken to include what is sometimes referred to as people skills, and prejudice is not encouraged in developing these. I was treated with prejudice, and whilst it did not appear to affect my medical treatment it did affect the care I was given.
im sorry you were treated badly in the A+E dept, It sounds just like an A+E in any part of england on a saturday night (overworked and under staffed) however that doesnt excuse rudeness.I hope your prognosis is good.Its also nice to hear someone praise the NHS cause i think we do a pretty good job(im a staffnurse at our local hospital).Perhaps you should get someone to write a letter of complaint (in spanish) no hospital likes getting those.In England people are all to happy to complain and we get hauled over the coals.I live in fear that i will be taken ill abroad, not because of the care i receive but the language barrier.I have worked with a couple of spanish drs who i found to be extremly competant.I hope all goes well and your experience doesnt put you off going to Ibiza again.
ibiza66
Active Member
hi
As we are Hoping to be living on the island in the next 3-6 months Im wondering does anyone living there suffer from Afib and how do the doctors/ hospital deal with any probs with it? Im afraid to be somewhere where they've never heard of it nor do I want to feel afraid everyday if anything does happen. Can anyone advise on this please?
Thanks
As we are Hoping to be living on the island in the next 3-6 months Im wondering does anyone living there suffer from Afib and how do the doctors/ hospital deal with any probs with it? Im afraid to be somewhere where they've never heard of it nor do I want to feel afraid everyday if anything does happen. Can anyone advise on this please?
Thanks