Medical Anthropology

            Since I pay a few hundred Euros a month for health insurance I’m ok with the fact that I actually had to use it.

            The story begins last week when I began experiencing mild tooth pain. No biggie, but I figured I shouldn’t let it go. My teacher Ursula was nice enough to book me an appointment with her dentist and set up all of the details. I woke up yesterday morning, ate, and caught the train to Göllersdorf. This is the same train that goes to Hollabrunn, though I had to take the “slow train” or Schnellbahn (which ironically means fast train) which stops at every village from Vienna to Hollabrunn in lieu of taking the “fast train” which goes directly to Hollabrunn with only two stops in between. I stepped onto the platform in Göllersdorf an hour later, greeted by the smell of fields and farms. If you are from Horseheads, NY, or anywhere upstate, you know what I’m referring to.



This is what happens when you Googleimage Goellersdorf.



The wind rustled and blew my hair in my face as I tried to read the directions I had printed. I was delighted to see that the streets were not marked and that I in fact had no idea where I was. Thankfully the village was extremely small, perhaps the size of the Ithaca College campus, and I managed to arrive only five minutes late. I would have asked for directions and arrived on time, but there was literally no one in sight. The village was dead. It was like a Stephen King book. Eerie. I got the feeling that I was riding through one of those extremely small towns (read: three streets, no stores, no schools, nothing) we encountered in the Midwest on Bike and Build. I could see the limits of the village while on the train platform. It was surrounded by fields and vineyards. And there was no one there.



Train station.



            The Dentist was the most happening place in town, and had a very futuristic feel with completely mirrored walls and modern red chairs. You had no choice but to look at yourself while reading the Austrian equivalent of Better Homes and Gardens.

            And so begins my dental adventure. At first my insurance card wouldn’t work. The receptionist put it in a credit card reader type machine and it came up blank. Awesome. I was asked to fill out a form pertaining to my medical history, but due to my American-ness was kindly allowed to fill in my name and birthday. “Are you allergic?” “Do you have baby?” No no no. “Ok you sit now.” I waited for forty-five minutes in a room full of men over fifty. They were all rather adorable, and we greeted each other upon entering the room -“Gruss Gott” -or parting ways -“Wiederschon.” There was a sense of community, we were all in this together. I was X-rayed. I waited another thirty minutes.

            The receptionist, she was very nice and I think she liked me, told me that the insurance company will send me another card in a few days. All is good.

            Once in the chair I was asked why I was in Austria and how I find it. There was a red light-up bear staring at me from the corner. I think it was supposed to be for Christmas, but who knows. The room was also very modern; with glass everywhere and a large computer screen displaying my x-rayed jaw right in front of my face. Instead of paper, they put a plastic bib around your neck.

            Dr. Denninger arrived and politely asked “what can I do for you today?” I explained my situation and we had a look at my X-ray. My opinion mattered, and she discussed the image with me as if I was an expert. She was delightfully friendly and not at all condescending. I didn’t sense the doctor-patient power disparity like I often do in the US. She asserted her opinion and then actually asked mine. She then poked around in my mouth. Without rubber gloves.

            My X-ray looked fine, and after hitting my tooth repeatedly with a metal object and asking if it hurt more than the others (yes, ouch) she conceded that there actually wasn’t anything wrong with me. No visible infection, a good filling, healthy gums, etc. I am to take antibiotics- not psyched- and if I don’t feel a change in five days I am to visit her colleague in Vienna for another consultation.

            I was in and out of the chair in fifteen minutes, though I spent almost two hours in the office. I had to take the train to Hollabrunn in order to get back to Vienna thus the whole ordeal wasn’t over until 1 o’clock.

            Overall this was sort of a pleasant experience. No shrill drilling noises, no screaming, and a polite staff. No one seemed nervous or anxious, we were just kind of hanging out in this glass room listening to Lady Gaga and 80s throwbacks. No co-pay. My prescription cost a mere 5 euro 50 and was filled in seconds, no ritual thirty minute wait while the Pharmacist twiddles her thumbs. Thank you, Austria.