Irish Hospitals

Ireland - not entirely sketchy... just the bits in Dublin.

We left to Ireland on Saturday afternoon and flew via Ryanair - a very good, cheap option for flying throughout Europe if you don't mind flight delays on every flight you're on. Anyhoo, since there are lots of people who want to fly cheap, the flights are almost always full. On our flight, I met two very nice English ladies, and one not so nice English lady who didn't cover her mouth when she coughed (I promise this will make sense and tie in.... but I'm kind of hopped up on cold pills...).

Anyways, when we got to Dublin, we took a taxi into town because we didn't really know where our Hostel was located. 27 Euros later we we relieved to find that our Hostel wasn't in the section of Dublin that looked like Compton - instead, we were in the section that looked like regular L.A. The hostel itself though, was very nice. Very attractive Irish blokes at the front - check. 16 bed mixed-sex room - check. Token American girls who made me embarrassed to be American - check.

We walked around the city for about an hour and quickly realized that EVERYBODY bloody smokes there. We even saw 4 12 year-olds craned over a bridge sneaking puffs from a cigarette - gross. Then we went to a traditional Irish pub and I had Shepard's Pie, which was magnificent and got hit on by 3 drunk Irishmen - so neat! Then, to top things off, I saw a crack whore in the bathroom. No. For real. There was a scantly clad woman stuffing small ziploc bags containing white pills into another ziploc bag - sketchy. Then we walked the streets of Dublin and took in the live bands, leprechauns, and more drunk Irishmen.

The next day was wonderful though - we went on a tour to Wicklow, which is in the country. Basically we saw incredible lakes, churches, cemeteries, monasteries, more lakes, and sheep, lots of sheep. While we were hiking around, I noticed a complete lack of energy on my behalf - note the story starting to tie in and the real purpose behind this post :D - and a sore throat coming on.

I am very, very susceptible to strep throat/tonsillitis, hence the woman coughing on the plane would have done well to cover her f****ng mouth. Suffice it to say that by the time we got back at midnight, I could barely speak/breathe. At about 12:30, I had a full-on asthma attack and had to be transported to a hospital in an ambulance - which took longer than a cab to get to our hostel; standardized health care - strike one.

They rushed me right in to see a nurse, but no doctor. My nurse/ the only nurse on staff for the night was a freaking bitch and told me I was having trouble breathing because I forgot my inhaler - yeah. People who forget inhalers regularly throw up when struggling to breathe. She also repeatedly told me to calm down, which I was trying to do, but you know, not breathing for almost a minute is somewhat scary... crazy, right? Anyways, after a breathing treatment, I was told to go wait to see the doctor. It took FIVE FREAKING HOURS!!! Standardized health care - strikes two and three.

When I finally saw a doctor, she basically told the nurse to be nicer to me because I was obviously in respiratory distress and also had tonsillitis. Lame. After another breathing treatment, blood tests, and chest x-rays, I was finally released at about 6:30 in the morning.

There were many more exciting details, but suffice it to say, the last third of my time spent in Ireland was not fun - at all. I've been down and out for the past few days, but am finally feeling a little better today. We're going to Stratford Upon-Avon tomorrow and I'll be seeing Avenue Q tomorrow night, but I missed Stonehenge and am super sad about having to "rest" whilst in Europe. Friday we're headed to Paris and Barcelona, so hopefully this cold won't be any more of a nuisance.

Sorry about the rant/extended blog, but I'm kind of whiny right now. Overall, Ireland = fun; Irish hospitals = shame on you.