Is there
a doctor
in the
country?

Patients dying in ambulances, not getting
treated, being misdiagnosed ... Japan
is a wealthy, technologically advanced
country so what are all the horror stories
about its hospitals and doctors? And what
do you do when you find yourself in a
health fix? KS holds its own stethoscope
to the Japanese medical system.
Get me to the
hospital on time

It was a beautiful, cloudless evening in May
when the shortness of breath started.
Having lost a co-worker earlier in the year
to asthma, I took no chances and called
the Japanese looking glass version of 911,
otherwise known as 119. As soon as the
operator picked up, the choice was made
between a medical emergency and fire.
Both the ambulance and fire department
share the same emergency system, so
I was greeted with the question "Kaji
desu ka? Kyukyu desu ka?" (Is this a fire
or ambulance emergency?) Next came the
details - name, address, and description
of the symptoms. A few minutes later, the
pinpon cacophony of the siren came into
earshot, growing louder by the passing
second. Finally, the life-saving crew knock-
ed on the door and whisked me away to
the nearest hospital for instant treatment.
Oh, if it were only that simple. Everything
up to the last step is completely logical,
but once you enter the ambulance, bureau-
cracy rears its ugly head. "Which hospital
would you like to go to?" the paramedic
asked. "Um, the closest one?" I quickly
replied. Having no "membership cards"
to any hospitals, it was difficult for me to
produce the name of a preferred medical
facility. The ambulance sat in front of my
apartment building while the medical
personnel called hospitals in Osaka city
until they found one that would accept
me. Luckily they gave me some oxygen
and checked my vital signs while checking
around. I ended up, about 20 minutes later,
en route to Otemae Hospital near Osaka
castle. They ran some tests and determined
it was a slight asthma attack, brought on
by an allergic reaction to cat hair.
While I was lucky to have found a medical
institution so quickly, others haven't been
so fortunate. (See page 8 for a description
of the current state of affairs.) The aging
population, as well as the acute shortage
of emergency room physicians, means
that this problem will become more and
more acute in the years to come. What
can we, as foreigners, do to protect our-
selves? The best advice is to avoid the
emergency room at all costs. In order to
do this, you should find a primary care
physician who can take care of your medi-
cal concerns. Local clinics are the easiest
to find, but are of dubious quality. It's really
a case of hit and miss. On your first visit,
simply say "Hajimete desu kedo." (It's my
first visit.) You'll be asked to fill out some
paperwork and the staff will inquire about
your medical coverage: "Hokensho o mochi
desu ka?" (Do you have a health insurance
card?). Clinics are best utilized for smaller,
non-life threatening conditions such as a
lingering cold, bronchitis, or the flu. More
than likely you'll be hooked up to an IV
drip (tenteki) to help rid your body of any
dehydration. While questionable in its
necessity, these drips are likely the major
source of income for these smaller clinics.
More serious medical conditions, on the
other hand, should be handled by a major
hospital. The first visit, no matter what
the condition, will always be with a general
practitioner, who will then refer you to a
specialist. Some hospitals have a one-time
fee for patients who were not referred by
another hospital or clinic. These fees run
anywhere from ¥2,000 to ¥5,000.
During your first visit, a shinsatsu ken
(patient card) will be issued and must be
shown on every subsequent visit to the
hospital (or in the ambulance in an emer-
gency). Bigger hospitals tend to have the
most experienced doctors and the most
up-to-date technology. Perhaps the best
way to find one is to ask co-workers or
other expatriates for advice.
Another option would be to get advice
from the AMDA International Medical
Information Center. AMDA is the Association
of Medical Doctors of Asia, a non-
profit organization created to not only
provide foreigners with medical information,
but also to provide Japanese doctors
with information on how to treat people
from other countries. Call them (in English)
to find English-speaking doctors in your
neighborhood, a listing of hospitals where
English is spoken, or for any other medical
questions. The website is also filled with
helpful information about what procedures
to follow in the hospital and examples of
medical forms that need to be filled out.
In addition, the Kansai center is looking
for volunteers to help with interpreting
and telephone consultation.
Regardless of how fluent your doctor may
be in your native language, if you're faced
with any kind of surgical procedure, it's
imperative that you speak Japanese (or
have a friend with you most of the time
to help with interpreting). Unlike medical
facilities in other countries, in Japan you've
got to bring a fair amount of stuff with
you before being admitted. Each hospital
has different requirements, and the bigger
ones will have some kind of convenience
store or shop where you can buy most of
the necessities. Things to bring include
toiletries, eating utensils, towels, bottled
water, and the like.
Consider being hospitalized a bit like
staying in a hotel, except much more regi-
mented. Up by 6am and in bed by 9pm,
with an endless array of nurse visits, blood
samples, tests, paperwork, and other
inconveniences. Peace and quiet? Only
during the operation when you're under
anesthesia! But then again, an operation is
never supposed to be a holiday, and if you
overcome the hurdles and the hassles and
come through safely you can put up with
a few early mornings and bland food.
Text: Wes Lang • Photos: KS
|