A Very...Interesting Morning

This particular region where Anya lives requires that all adopting parents have a medical exam. Not just any 'ol medical exam, but one performed by eight doctors at a pre-determined medical clinic. Interesting, eh?

The reason that they require that foreigners have this exam here, instead of their own countries is that they don't have family doctors like we do, where you can go for all your general needs. Patients see an Infectionist if they think they have Strep, or to a Dermatologist if they have a rash, right from the start. And since the very few natives who adopt here have to go to 8 doctors to have all of the possible ailments ruled out before receiving clearance for adoption, they decided that it's only fair that all foreign parents do, too. So they have certain medical clinics that perform these adoption exams. You go see all of these doctors, have the eight doctors sign everything off, and give the official forms to the judge when it's time for court. Our agency has you do it the 2nd trip just in case it's more than 90 days between your first trip and court because the exam can't be more than 90 days old.

Oh, and did I mention that this exam is in addition to the one you have at home, to include with your dossier? Doesn't make any sense to us. But you just do what you're told and don't ask questions.

Anyway, I've been squeemish about this part of the trip and I'm really glad it's behind us. I know a lot of the families who are coming after us to this city to bring their children home would like a full description of this experience. So since Jeremy's taking a big long nap and we don't get to go see Anya today, I thought I'd give you them all the full run-down. You're welcome! :)

One of the hallways in the medical clinic

The medical clinic is in a big building that is attached to a hospital. The best way I can describe it is that it's right out of the 1950's or before. From the hallways to the exam rooms, to the shelves that hold the supplies, to the equipment that they use. Our coordinator told us that all of the hospitals are like this. The ones that are "up with the times" are only for people who are very wealthy because no one else can afford to go there.

When you first arrive, you go to the chief physician's office and sit on her couch. There may or may not be other American couples sitting there, too. We were there with one couple from Illinois. The chief physician is this cute, quirky lady who smiles and does her very best to put you at ease by explaining how the morning will go. We really liked her.

Then the first doctor, the Doctor of Infectious Diseases, comes in and asks you a few questions right in front of the other people and you answer them through your translator. This was a little awkward to us... uh, no need to be confidential about anything??  OK, whatever.

The next part is the blood work, where they test to make sure you don't have Syphilis, HIV, Hepatitus B or C, and I can't remember what else. You go into a room down the hall and they assure you that although it looks very old, it's completely sterile and that the person taking your blood is very experienced. I always get light-headed when I have blood drawn. But we had to go fasting, and I get light headed without food. So that, plus the fact that I was nervous and couldn't communicate directly with the person who was sticking the needle in my arm made me pretty woozy. Luckily, they only poke you one time for all of the tests. But they have to change the viles 5 or 6 times, so hang in there. Every vile change made me more dizzy. When she finished, she could tell I wasn't doing well (probably because my face was completely white) and gave me a cotton ball with some strong smelling stuff on it to sniff. I don't want to scare anyone about this blood test. It's really nothing different than what they do in America. I'm just not good with needles and blood. I sat there for a minute and thought I was OK, but when we started walking back to the chief physician's office, things started spinning. Luckily, they had a table full of chocolates and cookies. After quickly shoving a few in my mouth, I started feeling better. Yowee! Glad that part was over.

Next, it was down the hall to see another doctor. All of the doctors are female. The only male that we saw was the Psychiatrist. Interesting. She asked a couple medical history questions, then tapped our knees and had us follow her tapping thing with our eyes, and we were done with her.

OK, heres where it gets a little interesting. The chest X-ray part. In this part of the world, they are not modest with their bodies and they obviously don't care that we are. So the other couple went first. The husband comes out with a funny look on his face, then the wife went in and came out a couple minutes later with an even funnier look. She looked at me and said, that was v-e-r-y i-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g. Of course, your interpreter (in our case it was our coordinator that we know well) has to come in, too, so you can communicate. So, you step in the door, and they tell you to take your clothes off from the waist up. They don't give you anything to cover up with. You're just standing there like a native African tribal woman. Then this really grouchy younger woman comes in and motions for you to step up on the platform and put your hands behind your head, facing a vertical wall thing. She abruptly pushes you against the wall like you're in trouble or something, then pushes your head against it. Your interpreter tells you to hold still, then the mean lady goes in the other room and the x-ray machine goes past you. That's it. We asked what was wrong with this lady and our coordinator said she worked in a military setting before this job. Anyway...I'm glad that other couple was there to help lighten things up. We all just laughed about it when it was done and chalked it up as a good journal entry.

There were two other exams where you have to take your shirt off. One was with the Cardiologist when she does the EKG (again, the EKG machine was sooo old and different than anything I've seen) and one with the Oncologist, if you tell her you haven't had a Mammogram lately. She does a quick breast exam.

The meeting with the psychiatrist was a little nerve racking. He took a look at our home study and asked us questions as he read it. The questions were similar to the ones that we are told that the judge will ask in court, like "Why are you adopting if you already have so many kids?" and "Why are choosing a child with Down Syndrome." He even asked us if we realized that the child would most likely be living with us as an adult. (Uh...thank you for telling us that. We didn't have any idea...)So funny.

So anyway, the whole morning was surreal. I felt like I was dreaming. But if you are a family adopting from this region, I'll tell you it's really nothing to be nervous about. You just have to go with a sense of humor and tell yourself that it's one more great story that you will get to tell your child when he or she gets older.

Our visit with the Psychiatrist was nerve-racking, but good because it made us realize how prepared we need to be with our answers for court. We were caught off- guard and probably came across as being clueless to this man. I was glad it only lasted a few minutes.

We need to be READY for court. Our coordinator said to imagine that we're professors, preparing for a lecture. In order for the judge to be confident in us, we need to educate her about what Anya is going to experience with us. In Eastern Europe, people with disabilities are hidden away from society. You just don't see them anywhere. In their minds, they are good for nothing. They have to be locked away in institutions their whole lives--no questions asked. This is why their birth parents can't keep them, or are too scared to keep them. Our job as the first couple adopting a child with Ds with this judge is to educate her on how our society accepts people with disabilities. How we value them, we educate them with our typical children, and how many of them work as adults and contribute to our society. We will explain to her the resources that we have to help them learn and what we, personally will do to make sure that Anya is fully taken care of and educated.

We have court on Tuesday and you can bet Jeremy and I will be spending some time between now and then rehearsing our "lecture." We have to be completely confident with our words, our mannerisms...everything. We hear that the judge is a nice lady. But this will be her first case where the couple is adopting a child with Ds.

Well, Jeremy is finally among the living, so I must end this long post. So sad we can't see Anya today. It's now 5:30 pm and we don't have a thing to do but hang out together in our hotel room. It's too dang cold to walk 2 blocks to the nearest restaurant, so I think we'll pay a little more and eat at the hotel restaurant.