The Return from China

If you are a follower of our China travels you might be wondering why new posts abruptly stopped or why we are back in America after completing a quarter of the planned China visit.  Well to hear it from the horse’s mouth we’ll break down the happenings that led up to our sudden departure.

On the fourteenth Alan wasn’t feeling well so I took his temperature noting that it was a little high.  He simply brushed it off because it was a particularly warm and humid day and probably hadn’t ingested the proper amount of water to stay hydrated.  As evening came he took an ibuprofen to lower his temperature and we headed to bed.  Sunday morning he awoke and did he usual routine around the house.  We planned on resting this weekend instead of traveling because there was an epic trip to Suzhou planned for later in the week.  It seemed like a good thing because Alan’s hips ached enough to discourage him from walking far.

Monday morning Alan awoke again excided to teach his classes but his body was aching worse than the day before.  He taught his classes anyway and went on to read a book for his college classes.  His complexion was pale and he continually squirmed because his body ached.  He took several ibuprofens and figured he would sleep off whatever was bothering him.  Sleep would not describe his activities that night.  His body sweated, shook, and sweated, then shook and shook until it wouldn’t anymore.  In the morning Alan was week and had a fever in the 100s.  I was terrified.  What could have happened to my husband, how do I get him help in China?  I had never seen him have shakes in his sleep get so weak.  We both had thoughts of panic not wanting to experience any part of a foreign medical system.  Seeking medical attention became inevitable as the day drew on that Alan’s temperature still increased.  By 9:30 AM I texted our liaison, Mary, to ask her to take Alan to a doctor.

I helped Alan to his feet and we walked the three blocks to the school gate were the liaison took us to the “best hospital in Yangzhong.” Alan was staggering about when he got out of the car from the intense headache and heat in his body.  If I hadn’t been there to guide him he might have tripped on a shadow.  Our liaison hurried us inside a building, through several hallways, and finally to the admission area.   Along one wall it looked like a series of bank tellers where we needed to get a card and medical history book.  The staff didn’t know what to do because Alan didn’t have a Chinese name.  After being shuffled through several tellers we would have settled with a made-up name had it expedited the process.  The name Alan finally was accepted and we completed the registration.

We had our patient book, medical card and were ready to be admitted.  It was time to go to a emergency room, right? Nope.  We needed to find someone to take Alan’s temperature.  The closest person, a nurse on the third floor of the building in the “temperature room”, was the only acceptable option.  To speed things up we passed by the elevator and took the stairs at the suggestion of our liaison. Alan’s words on the first flight were, “I’m going to shoot someone.”  

Traditional Chinese Medicine

At the top the third flight of stairs we walked down the hallway to the temperature room.  There in a white robe was a nurse holding a temperature gun sitting at a table with a little wooden chair for a patient to sit in.  Alan sat in the chair his weight causing it to creak and pop.  Within a second the temperature gauge slipped in Alan’s ear, I didn’t even notice if she put a disposable cover over the end.  Thirty-nine she scribbled in his medical book, telling me nothing because it wasn’t his age or a temperature I was used to hearing.

Our liaison wasted no time letting Alan collect himself.  “Come, come”, she called motioning for us to follow her.  I helped Alan to his feet and we gallivanted after our liaison to another room with two medical staff offices inside.  The Liaison motioned to Alan to sit in another wood chair where he did and instantly was summoned to leave.  Alan was still keeping his cool mostly from being dazed by his high temperature but my frustration was heating. 

Down the stairs we went trying to keep in pace with the liaison.  She led us through the building, across a parking lot, into another building and out the back, through an alley and in a side door where a “special disease doctor” had his office.  Alan rested in a wooden chair next to his desk.  The Liaison jabbered with the gentleman for only a about a minute before summoning us to follow her to where Alan’s blood could be tested.

Through the alleyway, parking lot, and buildings we went to the area where they draw blood.  It just so happened to be across the room from where we received the card and medical book at the start of our visit.  Alan sat at the first available bank teller-like-window and stuck his are through the hole.  I knew he might pass out so I held him while the man behind the window quickly wrapped a band around his arm and drew a quick sample of blood.  It couldn’t have taken more than a minute but Alan didn’t jump back to his feet.  His head leaned hard into me as he fought with the world closing-in around him. 

The Chinese people snickered and laughed watching us.  The liaison a little impatient asked, “What are you doing?”  It’s no secret in the Green house that Alan will pass-out at the sight needles, blood, talk of surgical procedures, etc.   A minute went by at this occasion of having his blood drawn before he could gain his composure.  He slowly rose to his feet leaning heavy on my shoulder and our liaison summoned us to follower her back to the special disease doctor. 

            It was time for the diagnosis and the liaison did her best to translate the doctor’s suggestions.  “Drink warm water, take a prescribed western medicine every twelve hours, and drink two bottles of traditional medicine three times a day.  “Sounds easy enough,” we thought.  I was optimistic that we would have Alan’s fever causing illness contained in a couple days!

            Upon returning to our apartment Alan took his first dose of the Western anti-virus medicine.  His stomach returned it within a few minutes.  Again he tried to take the medicine with some food but couldn’t hold it down more than thirty minutes.  I had a class to teach and by the time I returned he was attempting to rest with only a couple bottles of traditional medicine in his body.  He didn’t look any better than earlier in the day, but how could he after the vigorous walk around the hospital, vomiting, having no sleep, and having his blood drawn?

            Alan finally had his full gamut of medicines in his body by late evening and he rested on an ice-cold water bottle until the Beins arrived with a plethora of juices, yogurt, Gatorades, and anything else a sick person might need.  He ate a few things and turned in for the night.  His body wouldn’t let him rest.  It demanded water every thirty minutes and cool rags on the outside.  Alan couldn’t sleep more than a half hour without getting up to use the restroom, refill water bottles, or rinse his washcloth.  It was a steady rhythm he maintained for hour after hour.  On one trip to the toilet he stepped in some supposed water that sticky to the bottom of his bare foot. 

It was Wednesday, September 18th and Alan’s body was exhausted from no rest and a high fever and smelled of the fluids he had walked in all night to the bathroom.   He was finally able to rest for a couple hours in the late morning but when he woke his fever was higher than it had been before.  It didn’t appear that the medication the doctor had prescribed was working so I texted our liaison asking her to take us back to the doctor. 

Our arrival at the hospital was smoother this time because we didn’t have to go through the admission process of getting Alan’s name in the system, going to the temperature nurse on the third floor, or drawing blood.  The doctor seemed annoyed that we were back without giving the medication more time.  He acted surprised though that Alan’s fever had gotten worse and prescribed more traditional medicine, western medicine, and to drink more hot water. I insisted before we left this time that they translate into English Alan’s illness.  Their smart phones best translation was the common flu.

We went back to our apartment slightly optimistic and puzzled by how the common flu had wiped Alan out.  Sherry was getting pretty involved now since Alan’s sickness had drug on so long.  She was using some connections in the US to get the medical record book translated and worked with a pharmacist and doctor to decipher the medications prescribed.  The medical professionals in the US didn’t’ seem to agree or disagree with the prescribed medications but strongly advised we come back to America.

I took Alan to the hospital two more times that same week and things didn’t appear to be getting better.  They took x-rays, tried to draw more blood but Alan fainted, carted him around while his head bounced on a steel gurney, threated to keep him for up to ten days in a room that hadn’t been swept in months, and eventually admitted they didn’t know what to do.   The icing on the cake that finally brought us to the decision to end our stay in china was when our “American Contact” and the liaison both pointed fingers at each other claiming the other would help us. 

        Sherry booked us flights back to the US on Monday, September 23 and we made the necessary preparations to get Alan to the Shanghai airport.  I didn't know if he would make it but we knew we had to try to at least get him on the airplane.  On Sunday morning I had our bags packed and we walked out the school gate to find a taxi.  Alan was the color of a well bleached sheet but his feet still seemed to find the strength to carry him the four blocks where taxis regularly passed.

Our bus headed to Shanghai

Crossing the Yangtze River

The Lord was watching over us for the remainder of our travels this day.  A taxi pulled up just as we arrived at the planned intersection.  When we arrived at the train station the ticket lady spoke very good English making it easy to purchase tickets.  Our bus to Shanghai left ten minutes after we arrived at the station and had very good air-conditioning.  We found some great american style food in Shanghai (a.k.a Pizza Hut) and our hotel was very nice.  The best part about our hotel was it was one door away from a four story bartering market where we could get souvenirs for our families who we would see in less than a day.

Look how tall the buildings are in Shanghai!

Shanghai from our hotel room

Street markets you can see from our Shanghai Hotel

Shanghai from our hotel room

Pizza Hut!  Simply amazing! 

Alan eating his first salad in a month

Watching the sun rise from 35,000 feet.

The beautiful sight of the mission range

We are home now and getting Alan back to health. He is doing much better and regaining his strength. He had an upper respiratory virus that was attacking his body.