Ok so I finally have a little more perspective and can write about this crazy experience.  About a month ago I managed to catch my right big toe in the pant leg of my left pant leg and yanked it pretty hard, hard enough that I heard a pretty loud pop and felt a fair bit of pain.  Didn’t think much of it though until the next day when I noticed that the bruise which started near the top of my big toe was half way down my foot.  I was in Baku and I decided to be on the safe side and call my Peace Corps Medical Officer (PCMO).  Now, honestly I thought the PCMO would just tell me to stay off of it, ice it and she would look at in on Monday (it was Saturday).  Instead, she suggested that I go to the hospital and I should go by myself as it would take her a long time to come in to the city. 

Luckily I was with a great PCV friend of mine and she agreed to go on this hospital adventure with me.  So, with the PCMO en route to the hospital, my friend and I also headed off to find out what was wrong with my big toe. 

We walked up to the main street and got in a taxi.  The taxi driver had not heard of the hospital we were to go to.  Call #1 to the PCMO so she could tell the driver where to take us.  As we got in the general vicinity, the taxi driver had to stop and ask for directions several times. 

Now at the hospital we were to bypass the line at the front desk and ask for a woman who would take us to the doctor’s office.   Luckily there was not a long line as I hate being a pushy American.  The woman at the reception walked us 10 steps to the doctors office where we were met by a doctor and our translator/guide.  This translator was very excited to speak English as she does not get much practice.  However, since she has not had the opportunity to practice, her English only got us so far.  Throughout the course of this experience we used equal parts English, Azerbaijani, and Russian to communicate. 

The doctor and guide asked me what happened.  I tried to explain.  Then the guide took us up stairs (literally I walked up stairs) where we waited for the trauma specialist.  The trauma specialist finally came after about 10 minutes and looked at my toe for about 30 seconds.  He wanted an x-ray.  So down the hallway an up yet another flight of stairs. 

Now I was walking ahead with the guide.  She was practice her English with me so I missed the opportunity to use the elevator that the doctor who was walking behind me offered.  When my friend pointed out that we could take the elevator the guide said that stairs were better for our health. (??)

Into the x-ray room, shoe and sock off once more, and a few funny moments of everyone trying to figure out how to tell me how to sit and where to sit on the machine.  Then everyone is cleared from the room but myself and the doctor.  The doctor straps on all the appropriate protective gear; I get none.  A minute or so of the doctor positioning and reposition my foot and then he turns to me and says, “your finger is broken.”  Now up to this point I was convinced that it was not broken.  Coupled with the fact that he said finger (in Azerbaijani there is not a separate word for toes they are all called the same thing, fingers), I exclaimed “Broken!!!” Ah geez.  Then he kept saying “fixture” and I quizzically exclaimed “CAST?!”  Oh no.

So my friend and the guide/translator come back into the room and yes the guide explained to me that they wanted to cast my foot.  I immediately get on the phone with the PCMO, call #2.  She speaks with the guide and then with the doctor.  She then speaks to me and explains that I have broken my toe and then need to cast my one toe.  I try to explain to her that typically toes are just tapped together in the US. She explains that the location of my break necessitates a cast.  Then I ask what the cast will be like, where will it be?  She responds, “on one toe.”  Ok, not able to envision this I just give in to the idea of a one-toe cast and hang up.  

Now we are waiting for the cast specialist. Finally he appears.  Next thing I know he is wrapping gauze around me entire foot.  I try to get him to explain to me what he’s doing to no avail so call #3 to PCMO.  I tell her that it appears they are casting my whole foot and just want to know what is happening.  I hand the phone to the cast specialist.  He says two words to the PCMO and then hangs up.  The PCMO calls me back and says, “You are making him nervous.”  To which I respond, “Uh, I am making him nervous, I am the one with a broken toe getting a cast on my foot in a developing country.“ “Yes,” the PCMO states, “You are making him nervous.”  At this point I realize that I am not in any pain, the cast is not hurting me in anyway and I know that it is easily removed.  So with a sigh and a giggle (nervous laugh) I resign myself to being casted. 

A very short time later, my foot is half casted.  There’s really no easy way to explain this:  looking at your right foot, the cast started about at my 3rd toe in from my big toe and wrapped around  my foot to the other side and then stopped at my ankle bone.  The cast itself was just held on by gauze.  Maybe the picture above helps...

So with the cast done, they just tell me to go.  No crutches, no boot, no nothing AND they send me down stairs.  So flummoxed by the situation, I hobble, hop, and walk on this crazy half cast down the stairs (yes stairs!!) and back into the original doctor’s office and place call #4 to the PCMO who is apparently still on her way, a half an hour away.  I tell her that I am not happy with the situation, but I want her to see for herself.  So, we wait.

Finally, the PCMO arrives.  She talks to the guide to get the update from her and then looks at my cast.  She tells me this cast is perfectly normal and that I really need to stay off of it.  Well that’s dandy but how am I supposed to get around. Her answer, “Crutches.”  Uhg no.  At this point I sort of shut down.  I know that crutches in my town will be impossible and that I will be stuck at home.  So the PCMO asks the guide for crutches.  Nope, none in the hospital.  So off to the Peace Corps office to get crutches.

Crutches handed over, I head back to where I am staying in a lovely home with a great American family.  I spend the rest of Saturday and Sunday thoroughly frustrated with this half cast and crutches and really not sure how I will get by in my town with this cast on for 3 weeks. 

On Monday I headed into the Peace Corps office and talked with our Medical Assistant.  She stated that the doctor wants to see me again in 10 days so Peace Corps would like me to head back to site and then return.  We then discussed how I might be able to get by in my site unable to leave my house for that long and we satisfactorily worked out all of the details.

I spend the next 10 days holed up in my house, longing to be able to go out and walk around.    My trips to the bathroom are that much more annoying and I must plan even farther in advance. 

The days do manage to roll by fast...ish and I head back into Baku.  Determined that this cast must come off or I will not be able to get any work done, ever never. 

Luckily the cast specialist agreed with me that the cast could come off.  Phew.  So a few days of hobbling and then a few more days of walking slow and still more days of just not being able to walk a lot and then well and my toe is basically ok. It hurts sometimes but I can get around just fine and as my mom said I have now had my Peace Corps hospital experience ;).

stay healthy!

Jessica