Hospital Medal Count: Russia 1 Austria 0

Initially, I just thought I was sick from taking a vitamin on an empty stomach. That’s what I thought after barfing 3 times on my London to Moscow flight. But then I barfed 6 times on the flight from Moscow to Sochi, spent the entire flight in the bathroom because of the complete lack of concern of the flight attendants. They also couldn’t be bothered to let me off the flight early, nor provide a wheelchair to someone who had been sick that badly. I’m so thankful Lara was there to carry my bag, and demand a doctor and wheelchair after we got off the ramp. I barfed into a bag again as they wheeled me out to baggage claim, just for good measure. Poor Lara, that barfbag was the beginning of the end for her. 

We were taken to the airport medical center. There, a handsome volunteer named Victor (he did NOT look like a Bond villain) helped translate (NOTE: ALL Russian translators are <25 years old). They examined me there and asked if I had "problem with needles", and gave me two very painful shots in the butt. I assume was an intent to rehydrate me, but it’s really hard to say. After a bit, they asked whether I felt better. But then, they took my temperature and said that something was wrong and I had to go to hospital. They said it was only 5 minutes away and that I would be out in a few hours. They then separated me from my sister and put me in an ambulance. 

55 minutes later, I arrived in a hospital north of Sochi. I had no idea where I was going, and no one in the ambulance spoke English. There were no medical services available closer. Luckily for me, there was a Coca-Cola employee, Max, who spoke English there to translate for me. Once at the hospital, they took my temperature again and said I had to stay in the hospital for the night (cue me crying hysterically for the first of many times in the next few hours). I kept insisting that I would not stay in a Russian hospital, and that I couldn’t deal with my sister not knowing where I was. Also, anyone who has known me a while knows I spent the worst medical night of my life in an Austrian hospital, so I am TERRIFIED of foreign hospitals, particularly because Max, the one person who could speak English, had to leave. We could not find a number for the cruise ship I was staying on, and calls to my sister to update her would not go through (she was waiting two hours for her bag with her phone charger in it).

They told me that normally they would keep me for 3 days, but that if I felt better in the morning, they would call a cab and I could leave. This is when the nursing staff kicked in. They were wonderful. They couldn’t speak my language, but tried to comfort me, as I was in so much pain, and crying and crying that my sister didn’t know where I was. They all had old-timey nurse uniforms on (I’m a fan), and many had icons around their neck, which was all somehow very comforting.The hospital was actually very nice. It looked like it had been built pretty recently, and although everything wasn't electronic, it reminded me that everything doesn't need to be. I had a room alone with two beds in it, and they came right away when I called them. 

They administered a lot of fluids, ran a lot of tests, after which they put me to sleep.  This is the first hospital I haven’t been cold in (ever), thanks to a toasty wool blanket. I finally got to sleep at 2:00, after reading Russian stories on my Kindle. At 7:00, I started asking? demanding? a taxi home.  They tried to pacify me with offers of TV and water, but all I could think about was Shaun White and the gold medal I would be missing if they didn’t get me out. A new doctor, Sergei (who happened to be a dead ringer for Despicable Me), came in and explained I had to reject medical care to get out of the hospital. 

While I had been sleeping, Max had contacted my ship and my sister, and they were sending someone to get me. Thank goodness I stayed on a cruise ship!! She translated for me to get out of the hospital, bought me medicine at the pharmacy, took me back to reunite with my sister, and explained my condition to the ship’s doctor. Even though the ship wouldn’t let me see that doctor again, I was thankful to know that there was one. 


I can't believe this happened to me, but I have to say, that hopefully this only happens once, and I had a good experience (and a MUCH better one that that terrible night in Wien). And I'm in the Sochi, and feeling much better, so as the Russians would say "It's wery nice".