Healthcare In Honduras

Anyone who has ever been to Honduras as part of a mission team, and maybe some of you who have just read my blog, know to what I am referring when I say Hospital Escuela. Hospital Escuela is the hospital for those that have no money. It is a teaching hospital and they will treat you. But if you need suture kits for a surgery or pain meds after, and you can't afford those things, you do without them. If you do not have the money in your pocket to walk across the street to the pharmacy for these things, too bad. You do without. There is a hospital like this in every major city in the country.

Seventy per cent of the people in this country live in poverty. Therefore, most of the sick and dying people in this country have no choice but to go to these hospitals. They are severely understaffed and overcrowded. There are no private rooms. There are wards. There is no privacy. No dignity. There is no chair in which a mom to sit beside her sick child. She stands. All day long. And sometimes sleeps under the child's bed. Dehumanizing possibly.

If we were here for humanitarian aide only, and had enough money, we could find patients at Hospital Escuela all day every day and walk across the street to the pharmacy and buy pain meds and suture kits and parasite meds for dying babies and endless other needs.

On the end of the sprectrum is private health care. Private health care with well-trained doctors and fairly modern procedures. For those who can afford it. Praise God we could. Even in private health care in Honduras, you are not treated unless you pay. And I am thankful for those well-trained doctors that have come back to Honduras.

We went to Hospital Viera. By our American standards, it would be considered old and badly needing freshening up. We have been to the emergency room at Viera before. We have a good friend that is a well-respected doctor there. Even with this spotless reputation of being able to be vouched for, without payment, I would not have been treated.

We arrived at the emergency room between 5:00 and 6:00 in the evening. I do not really know. I was immediately put into a bed. A nurse entered and began to take my vitals. Before she was finished, we had seen one than one doctor. There was not any time being wasted. Doctors were in and out of there. Asking, Checking. A nurse came to start an iv. Then later she returned to draw blood. Normally, we are asked for payment for all tests (i.e. blood work, urine samples, etc) in advance, but I guess I was sick enough they knew they would admit me.

All the while I was receiving excellent care. I had to have x-rays and ultrasound. The doctor to read the ultrasound had to be called from home.

It was determined immediate surgery was required. A surgeon came in and began to examine me. He put a stetoscope to my stomach and moved it several times and listened. And listened. And listened. He was not hearing any kind of intestinal sounds, which is never good. The surgeon was highly educated and professional at all times. He spoke no english. He took his time and spoke slowly and deliberately to assure we understood what he was saying and what was happening.

As soon as the surgeon left, and before another thing was done, Marc was callled out of the room to make a deposit. Marc had to immediately pay for all services rendered to that time and a deposit on estimated services to be rendered. If we could not have paid, I guess we would have left the hospital. It did not matter to one person in that hospital that we have international insurance that covers us in Honduras.

I was in surgery for over three hours, with four doctors present. After recovery, I was moved to a private room. There was a bed in my room on which Marc could sleep. And chairs. And a tv.
Of course the comfort of that bed is a completely different subject.

At all times, I was treated with respect and dignity. We had privacy. The nurses and doctors were very professional. I received excellent care.

When it came time to leave, Marc was asked to pay the final bill. In cold hard cash. If that had not been possible, we would not have left. We would have stayed in the hospital, with the meter running until we could pay in full. Seems sort of counterproductive, but it is what it is.

That final bill included everything. All the doctors, the meds, the surgery, the hospital. Everything. One bill. It was itemized for us, but one bill.

And our total bill for an emergency room, tests, a surgery, all those doctors, two nights in the hospital, etc. etc. was far less than you would imagine.

This is not intended to open a discussion on health care in America. But whether we believe it or not, we have a pretty good thing going. We all know we would be treated regardless of our ability to pay.

Terri