Does Tracey Have a Boo-boo?

Originally published in The Groove, September 2007

A Stark View
By Tracey Stark

Does Tracey have a boo-boo?

Please bear with me this month. I’d like to share an experience of mine regarding hospitals in Korea. Don’t worry though, I’m in fine health as of this writing.

Almost two years ago I injured my hand at a bar in Shinchon doing something not important enough to mention. I made it to a hospital that could do with a wrecking ball and was x-rayed. The bone poking through my skin led me to suspect I had broken something, so I wasn’t startled in the least when the doctor said, “compound fracture.” Even when he said “you need surgery” there was nothing to do but shake my head and mutter a curse for my stupidity.

Within a few hours I walked into surgery in a pair of shower shoes and climbed up onto the operating table. The surgery was successful, as was the surprise surgery the following day – another broken bone was apparent in follow-up x-rays.

While I lay in bed recovering, I wondered when I would be discharged. After all, I had only broken my hand. It’s not like I had open heart surgery.

And so began my painful endeavor of leaving a Korean hospital against doctor’s wishes.

As the nurse changed my IV bag and injected some additional meds into me, I asked her if I could go home the next day. She laughed and moved on to the next patient. (Perhaps I should have asked in Korean.)

“To prevent infection, is necessary for you stay two weeks,” the doctor told me during one of his infrequent trips to the broken hand room. (Next door to the broken leg room.)

Needless to say I balked. “I’ll be fine, doc. Just give me a prescription for antibiotics and I’ll clean the wound every day.” I thought that would clear things up. He would understand that I could take care of myself and that I knew how to prevent an infection. I would even save him and his nurses some time and supplies. But his answer was no. He explained that I needed intravenous antibiotics for the next 10 days. Pills, he said, were out of the question.

There was no way I was going to lie back and watch lame variety shows for two weeks, so I called in a friend to help me. A Korean, he is rather imposing in stature and good looking enough to command instant attention and respect. After a half hour arguing with first the nurse and then the doctor, he persuaded them to process me, issue me a prescription for pills, and send me on my way. (They tsk-tsked non stop.)

I understand the importance of caution and I do enjoy a bit of pampering from time to time. But there is a difference between giving someone a bowl of chicken soup and treating them like Terry Schiavo.


I believe my case is far from an isolated one, however. About a week ago, my wife had some bruising, swelling and pain in her wrist after an unfortunate run-in with a door. Fearing a minor fracture, she stopped in at an orthopedic clinic and was examined by a surgeon, x-rayed, and splinted up. She was told it was a sprain and that she should keep her wrist wrapped for two weeks. She was full of praise for their care and diligence and marveled at how little the whole ordeal cost her compared to Australia. That night she unwrapped her arm for a shower and found that the swelling was gone and that it no longer hurt so much. As a precaution, though, she wore the splint to bed. In the morning she tossed it in the bin along with the two days’ worth of mystery pills he had prescribed.

I’m not trying to sound ungrateful for the high-quality and low-cost medical treatment I’ve received. While a child may need his boo-boo kissed and an extra bowl of ice cream, most adults can’t take two weeks off to tend to an ingrown toenail.

But who am I to complain? Back home in America I’d have to be George Bush in a coma to get this kind of treatment.