| Doctors in Baja |
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| Written by Melinda Bates | |
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Doctors in Baja I'm one of those Baby Boomers who has been healthy all my life, and let my US insurance lapse when I moved to Rosarito. I meant to deal with it, but got distracted by one glorious, sun-filled day after another, and never did. However, on the suggestion of a neighbor, I did buy a "membership" in the medical practice of a doctor who is highly regarded in the Gringo community. This cost $150 for a year, and provided reduced cost visits and procedures. It's a good thing I did, as just a few weeks later I had an accident in my house, then under construction. I fell and broke my L4 vertebrae. Once the screaming stopped, we got me into a car and off to the doctor (I should have waited for the ambulance). Over the course of the next five days, in his little clinic, I lay on my back with an IV in my arm as a parade of doctors came in to see me. In the end, with the concurrence of my primary doctor, I decided to go home with a brace and let bed rest heal me - which it did. And what did this little adventure cost? Five days and nights in a private (simple but adequate) room, nursing care, whatever drugs went into the blessed IV, five ambulance rides (to X-ray labs and the Tijuana facility that fit my brace), the doctor's fee: $1,200. That's right. $1,200. When I got home, we used a local nursing care company (run by an American who is well known in Rosarito) to hire a nurse who came three days a week for three hours. This registered nurse was a lovely and kind care-giver. She helped me with whatever I needed, made sure I was comfortable, and clean, checked my meds, cooked lunch for us, and tidied up the house. You may wonder what that cost? Eleven dollars an hour. And one of the most striking features of the care I got was how kind and gentle everyone was. Mexicans are just better at that than their often-stressed out counterparts across the border. I was never rushed, or treated impatiently by any caregiver - at any level. Now, a year later, I'm well recovered from what could have been a devastating injury. And there have been changes for our doctor as well. He left the little clinic and started a small hospital in the heart of Rosarito, with his own lab, X-ray, gynecology, oncology and birthing units. He'll be offering his own annual memberships soon. The doctors he left behind, realizing the new standard of competition, have enlarged their clinic as well. There are some fine doctors here, and many of them speak fluent English, in case your Spanish is non-existent or not up to health care requirements. We have a friend here who developed a frightening and puzzling paralysis of his legs. A surfer, he's normally so healthy he didn't even have a doctor, so he called his children's pediatrician. This doctor listened to the symptoms and sent him immediately to the hospital de los Angeles in Tijuana, telling him, "I believe I know what this is, and it's so dangerous that we're going to start treating you for it before we even get the test results. We'll continue to test to confirm the diagnosis, but we can't wait on the medicine." Good thing! Our friend had contracted Guillian Barre disease, a terrible paralysis that could have killed him or landed him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. If he had crossed over to the US for an emergency room visit, he would have waited so long for treatment that the paralysis would have progressed too far. He and his family are very glad their medical care is here in Baja. As a Baby Boomer, I'm not allowed to ever actually get, you know, "old". But in case that does happen (sometime in the distant future) Baja is the place I want to be. Our little villa is just the right size, it's all on one level, and we can drive right up. If we lived in a towers, there would be elevators. And, right outside our windows is the blue, blue Pacific, rolling along with its own endlessly fascinating show - dolphins and whales diving and rising, squadrons of pelicans and shore birds, the waves breaking on black rocks, the clouds rolling in from far off-shore, and at night the biggest moon making tracks on the water. When I need help it will be available and affordable, right here in my own little piece of heaven. If I get frail, just wheel me out to the patio, put up the umbrella, and let me rest there, smelling the flowers, enjoying the sparkling sunshine and cool ocean breezes. By Melinda Bates |