Blood, sweat and urine

This week we were informed that if we wanted to stay in Vietnam and be treated as respected members of the working profession (get a work permit) then we had better prove ourselves to be upstanding citizens when it came to our general health. Can anyone see a problem here?
So Tim and I turned up dutifully at the school and tried to ignore the looks of pity and horror, like the manifestation of post-traumatic stress disorder, that crossed the faces of our fellow teacher when they found out our afternoon destination. One particularly verbose lady teacher informed me that the tests were fine but she implyed that the hospital had no walls and that I would be subjected to humiliating near nakedness in a canteen full of people. I started to worry that perhaps I should have worn bigger pants. Before any decisive action could be taken in that area we were shuttled off to the hospital by a smiley teaching assistant happily being paid overtime.
We were both a bit shocked when we finally pulled up outside the hospital to find that it appeared to be a complete building and resembled a medical establishment not a couple of poles holding up some torn and dirty curtains pitched in the middle of a swamp. We were escorted inside where a Vietnamese matron, I presume that’s what she was – she had a little paper hat on, looked us up and down as if we were rabid junkies who had flown over especially to infect their children with AIDS. After being shown a list in English of the various tests they would be performing on our blood we were shown into our first waiting area of the day. Inside was a testament to the outside and although they might have been recently erected there were walls and solid partitions aplenty, so I began to worry for my colleague’s heightened sense of indecency. As our faces were distinctly Western, which meant a higher fee, we were obviously pushed to the front of the queue. Thankfully the blood-letting was first as I wasn’t not sure how long Tim could handle the anticipation of the needle. He emerged reasonably unscathed and I was encouraged to note that they were using sterilised needles and everything. I found the continual laughter throughout the procedure somewhat disconcerting but otherwise I their intrusion into my bloodstream was efficient and professional. Following a urine sample in a toilet cubicle that my mother wouldn’t have entered on pain of death we were off to have our chest x-rayed for reasons that weren’t divulged. After the stories we had been told we were quite surprised to find that there was a door between the operators and the x-ray machine and as far as my knowledge of physics goes I understand that a faux wooden door should contain those bad boys. However the tree growing in the middle of the waiting room did come as something of a shock. At no point did I have to bear my flesh to the world, which I’m sure everyone was grateful for.
Next on the agenda was eyes. We were seated in front of a classic eye chart with its numbers and letters decreasing in size whilst each eye was tested. A thoroughly uneventful experience that was made joyous as we watched an old Vietnamese woman before us sneak up to the chart whilst the nurse’s back was turned. My cry of ‘she’s cheating’ made us giggle which I don’t think was fully appreciated by the woman’s daughter sat beside us. Our next stop was the ear, nose and mouth doctor who had been expertly trained in looking into each orifice with a different metal instrument. I had a most pleasant conversation with him as he informed me he had just started lessons at our school while he inspected my nasal cavities.
Before attending our last appointment we were tasked with providing our own height and weight measurements on the modern technology provided, see photo. Our final inspection was with a doctor who peered at me over her facial mask, protection against any of my suspected infections, contracted through Western excess no doubt. She asked if I had ever been hospitalised and was content with my answer as I held back any quips about my mental state. After taking my blood pressure on the same arm that had been violated by a needle not long before she listened to the sound of my lungs. If she heard anything suspect she wasn’t about to reveal it and we were ejected back onto the street, wondering if we would ever find out the results of these perfunctory tests.