French medicine (edited)

We had a great morning with Mom and Sharon, starting with petite dejeuner in Beaune, and we had big plans for a date night tonight at our favorite restaurant, Ciboulette. It all started well enough, and we enjoyed our coffee and fresh juice (and croissants and bread for me and John) at the best cafe in the world. We wandered the streets a bit before leaving Mom and Sharon to shop and to visit the Hotel Dieu (the beautiful old hospital of Beaune) while we did a few less thrilling errands before picking up the girls. Little did I know that we would end the night not at our romantic restaurant, but at the very new hospital of Beaune, with a very sick Olivia.

It all started when we arrived at the school,  and the first words out of Olivia's mouth were that her tummy hurt. She spent the rest of the day fighting a high fever, throwing up (again and again and again), and looking generally pathetic. At one point, I called the doctor here (the one John saw for his detailed athletic physical) but he wasn't there this afternoon. We got an appointment first thing tomorrow morning, but by 6:30 p.m. tonight, Liv was looking worse and worse, throwing up more and more, and was very much in pain. I started worrying about appendicitis. Even though Liv is the quickest to complain about a small splinter (or any emotional hurt), when she is really sick, she is usually so stoic and strong.... so her complaints today, and her tears, were worrying.

So off we went to the French emergency room, joking to Livie about how she likes to stay close on our planned date nights. All conversations took place in French, and I definitely had some gaps in my understanding and even explaining (I thought the French word for "to complain" was grimper but no one seemed to understand what I meant when I said it. I just checked now and grimper means "to climb". No wonder they looked confused when I said my daughter doesn't usually climb stairs when she is sick! For the record, to complain is se plaindre.). Still, for the most part the language parts went very well, and I thought several times how better it all went compared to when we had to take Katie to the doctor in Japan.

Everyone at emerg was very nice. No one said we were crazy for bringing her in (always a worry), and all of them seemed to genuinely like children. They sent us to an on-call doctor, who was also very, VERY nice. After a thorough exam, he determined she didn't have appendicitis. Nor did she have meningitis, and she also didn't have strep. Whew. She did have a very high fever (hanging out around 104F/40C, even with fever reducer, which I am usually reluctant to use but tried when she seemed so miserable) and some kind of throat infection (that I am sure has a name but I didn't fully understand what he called it). He thought her stomach pain was caused by the fever and inflammation. We walked out of there paying 25 euros for the visit and holding on to four (!) prescriptions. I had always heard that the French like their medicines, and this seemed to prove that. I was able to ask enough to learn that all of the prescriptions were just to treat her symptoms (swelling in her throat, the cramping belly), were all prescribed for just 2 or 3 days, and none was an antibiotic or steroid. I filled them at the on-call pharmacy for just 11.14 euros. Also amazing (this is where I am tempted to make a comment about "socialized" medicine... but I am too tired for politics right now, so I'll just leave it at yet another great experience in a country with universal healthcare).

I was especially impressed with the doctor and his treatment of Liv. Apparently, all of the local doctors in the Beaune area rotate with the nighttime and weekend shift, and people who aren't sick enough for emergency are referred there. The doctor took his time with us, even though there were other patients in the waiting room. We told him we knew she shouldn't go to school with a fever, but we were planning to do a little driving tour of the villages tomorrow. Would that be OK, we asked. He thought about it, and said it's probably best to stay home. But he didn't say it like some blanket announcement that sick kids should be in bed (in fact, he said she could play outside if she wanted). Instead, he considered it and then explained that because of her fever, if she's in a car, she could get overheated if she's sitting in the sun, or chilled by too much air conditioning, and that for her sake, it is probably not a good idea to leave home. That he took time to think that through, and then explain to us his logic, after an already thorough visit really impressed both of us.

There was also the small victory of me figuring out halfway through the evening's various conversations that Tylenol (acetominophen) is called paracetamol here in France.

At any rate -- Liv already is feeling a bit better. She is, as the doctor said, tres courageause. We felt lucky to have Mom and Sharon here to watch Jack and Kate while we had a very cozy date night. And on that note... I think the three of us are all headed to bed... together, bien sur.