Posts tagged ‘Hungarian Health Care System’

October 3, 2014

things that make me happy

by ada

1. Other people’s cars.

Ferrari horse

2. Random fireworks I saw from the  balcony the other day.

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3. My ladybird earrings. They aren’t new, but I find myself wearing them every day lately.

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4. Sea salt chocolate made in Piran.

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5. Books from an English bookstore in Ljubljana. I’ve already finished the two Mma Ramotswe stories but haven’t started The Cuckoo’s Calling yet.

Ljubljana books

6. Speaking of books: new bookshelves. This is a never-ending battle between me and my books in which I’m still on the losing side.

shelves

7. Mini bottles of nail polish, bought in Maribor. I’ve never really gotten behind the ways nail polish rules the emotional life of women but Hungarian Health Care System is a weird, cruel place and I – being emotionally not exactly the toughest lately – need every bit of glittery distraction I can get to survive it.

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8. That my time in Hungarian Health Care System is almost over. Only eleven more exams to go and I’m free to choose my own path again.

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March 15, 2014

on an occasion of national mourning

by ada

Today we celebrate the most important national holiday in Hungary, the outbreak of the 1848 revolution against the Habsburg Empire. There are festivities held everywhere right now, but I am so annoyed by the way things go here* that I refuse to participate in anything Hungarian. If you are interested in the history of this day, you can read my post on it from two years ago. 

I took these photos yesterday, after getting pissed off both by my previous workplace, the Medical University of Budapest and by the Chamber of Hungarian Health Care Professionals. My problem is that I lived in Western Europe for the last 10 years. And I expect logic in official administration. I tend to forget that this is Hungary, where logic has simply no tradition.

* well, actually by how they don’t go**

** I had some major frustrations caused by Hungarian bureaucracy lately***

*** what lately! Every f*cking day there is a new, totally pointless frustration just to make life a little less bearable than it already is; and by every day I mean every. single. day. I’m about to lose my sanity, because life here is really that ridiculous.

P.S.: I did not intend to leave my flat today, because the weather is terrible and I’m in no patriotic mood, but I had to pick up my mother at the bus station. So I kept myself entertained on the underground by guessing my fellow passengers’ political sentiments and calculating the results of the April elections, using this scheme I just invented (I was born to be an independent political analyst):

  • Elderly female, wears tricolour cockade –  Deeply religious (Catholic). Loves “our Viktor”; if she gets the opportunity, she even tries to kiss his hand. Votes for Fidesz.
  • Young male, wears tricolour cockade – Has superiority complex. Visits archery clubs and manages his private correspondence using ancient Hungarian runes. Thinks that it’s his responsibility to clear the country of Roma and Jewish people. Votes for Jobbik, obviously.
  • Young female, wears tricolour cockade – Deeply religious (Catholic). Believes that the women’s main (only) mission in life is childbearing. Marries Archery Boy right after college. By the age of thirty has already six children. Never goes to work again. Votes for Jobbik.
  • Elderly male, doesn’t wear tricolour cockade – a relict of the former Socialist regime. Had the time of his life during the Kádár era as a socialist youth leader. Still believes in social equality and the equal distribution of wealth. Votes for MSZP.
  • Young male, doesn’t wear tricolour cockade – liberal atheist/gay/socially conscious, practising Jew. Is disgusted by the present state of Hungarian politics. Worries about Jobbik and is naïve enough to believe that he still has a chance. Votes for LMP.

In my independent opinion, Fidesz will win the April elections and will form a coalition with Jobbik. Hungary will declare itself as a politically independent kingdom, that will still accept (demand) financial help from the EU, but is superior to other countries of the world. Women will lose their right to vote and have to pay “childless tax” if they are still single (and childless) at the age of thirty. Gay people will be publicly prosecuted. Children have to practise archery at school. Books will only be printed using runes and Hungarians have to learn to read from the right to the left. Falcons and mangalica pigs will be the only pets allowed. All men will be obliged to wear moustaches and/or beards (this will make us a land full of outdated hipsters).

Don’t say I haven’t warned you.

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December 31, 2013

the year is going, let him go

by ada

2013 wasn’t exactly a bad year for me but it wasn’t a good one either. It was like just milling around, one step forward two steps back while nothing really makes sense and nothing ever happens. I’m quite relieved that this year is finally over. Yay 2014!

In contrast to last year this time I have numerous New Year’s Resolutions. Most of them are private, that I won’t discuss here. My resolutions regarding this blog are to

  1. be more personal. At some point along my way through 2013 this blog stopped being my personal diary and became a travel blog or rather a backup place where I uploaded some of the halfway acceptable photos I took of buildings. Which is fine too, I guess, but becoming so neutral was never my intention.
  2. post less and select and sort out my photos more strictly. Sometimes I really envy those beautiful, artistic photo blogs with simple designs and meaningful pictures and I have to remind myself that the purpose of my blog is not to cause visual joy to anybody out there but to collect and save my memories. Crappy pictures for crappy memories. Haha.
  3. improve my photography. Because even if this place most likely will never evolve into a beautiful, artistic photo blog, I still want to learn how to make my indoor pictures less blurry.
  4. write more about music. I totally get that nobody likes my music posts but me, haha, but hey, it’s my blog where I do as I please. And I don’t want to completely forget the person I was before the depression. That nice and intelligent person that had opinions and knowledge and was talented and her life wasn’t centered around iv pumps and artificial hearts. Not that there is anything wrong with artificial hearts.

So let’s remember some of the nice and/or important things I did or that happened in 2013:

I started the year with fireworks in Salzburg.

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Milo was born shortly after that.

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Spring was beautiful (when it wasn’t raining).

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I visited 30 cities in 6 different countries during the year (I don’t count Salzburg and Budapest where I actually live and not just visit). My favourite places were rainy Venice…

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…and the beautiful synagogue of Třebíč.

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 I also paid a visit to the Dachau Concentration Camp.

kz dachau

I hiked mountains…

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… got wet by waterfalls…

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…took boats to reach islands…

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…and cable cars to reach peaks.

Untersberg cable car

After a more than twenty years long hiatus I actually made two zoo visits this year. A trend I definitely want to continue.

zoo

I became an expert in mountain cemetery art…

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…and in carillon mechanics.

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I celebrated the opening of the Salzburger Festspiele…

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…documented folk festivals…

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…and politically critical art exhibitions.

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I bought my first DSLR. Technically spoken, it’s an SLT, but honestly, for me the definition doesn’t make any difference. I am not entirely happy with it, maybe it’s the kit lens and its huge barrel distortion and poor focusing skills; but it’s nice to have control over my choices. Unfortunately, I don’t really have any control over anything yet, so a lot of blurry, over or underexposed, out of focus photos are to come till I learn how to handle it properly. Don’t be too hard on me if I post the sixty-fourth slightly washed-out picture of the same blurred flower or distorted building. I also try not to over-edit my photos in order to make them less painful but it’s hard, really hard.

I also let my hair cut, after wearing it long for about ten years. This decision didn’t make me more beautiful (I still haven’t found out what makes me more beautiful, haha) but man, does it feel good to have it short! On my Good Hair Days I look like Dora The Explorer. On my Bad Hair Days… Oh well. On my Bad Hair Days I look a lot like Pumuckl. I usually have Bad Hair Days (not that this makes any difference). (Also, you’re welcome for my precious self-portrait, displayed in the true manner of the Mysterious Blogger’s Awkward Bedroom Mirror Selfie. At least it isn’t a Common Restroom Mirror Selfie entitled “what I wore today”. And you really can’t claim that I’d overflow this blog with my own self-portraits).

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In 2013 I also quit my job (twice) and moved (twice). I see a certain pattern here, haha. I guess I’m addicted to this feeling of freedom that comes with quitting jobs.

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I left Salzburg…

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…and moved back to Budapest for a while.

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I started a course to specialize in Critical Care Nursing and Anaesthesiology, mostly because I missed using my brain and was so bored with the job they call nursing in Austria. Hungarian Health Care System has its (major? giant? monumental?) flaws but at least it isn’t boring for all that take actively part in it. Stressful? Yes. Boring? No.

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I also had some family time with relatives I haven’t seen in two years…

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…and went a bit heavy on Christmas markets to overcompensate last year’s complete lack of festive feelings.

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At the end of the year Móricka turned two. He celebrated with smashing his cake to the floor. Unintentionally, of course.

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So this was (the nicer part of) my 2013. Let’s move on, please?

March 4, 2013

conversations with my coworkers – part 5

by ada

Neighbouring ward at 3.30 am. I’m helping out the night shift nurse, a tough German guy with a slight air of brutality around him.

me (trying to do some small talk): So, and how it is in Germany? Who does the washing, dayshift or nightshift?

coworker: You are not allowed to wash patients during the night! It’s against the laws!

me: What laws?

coworker: The sleeping laws! (Opens the door of a room with a crash and turns the lights on. All the three patients in the room wake up with startled expression on their face.)

me: (confused): Well, in Hungary we do wash them during the night, because during the day you really lack the time for it.

coworker (slams the door. All the doors on the ward resonate. The three patients look like they had received a shock): But you are in the EU! Report them!

me (amused): EU? Hahaha! It’s Hungary, man, it’s not the EU! Whom should I report anyway? The whole Hungarian Health Care System? To whom?

coworker (gets really excited): Patients have the right to sleep! (Hearing this, the three patients try to hide under their blankets.)

me (trying to get him calm down while hearing other patients wake up in the neighbouring rooms): Okay, okay, they do, they do.

coworker (starts to shout very loud while tearing brutally the blanket off one of the patients): THEY HAVE THE RIGHT TO SLEEP! THEY CAN REPORT YOU IF YOU WAKE THEM UP!

me (cautiously): Well, you are waking them up right now.

coworker (yells at the totally terrified patient who tries to get his blanket back): DON’T MOVE! (turns to me) I NEVER WAKE ANYBODY UP!

me: What if we just do the job quickly and then I just go back to my own ward?

December 29, 2012

365/344

by ada

I started the day at my father’s hospital, asking doctors rhetorical questions like where do you think we are, in the film The Cuckoo’s Nest?*; continued running amok to catch my train, travelled six hours back to Salzburg and arrived with an only 30 minutes delay to my twelve-hours-long night-shift. This is my personally developed guide on how to live on 24 hours a day.

* no, it’s not a psychiatry ward for ordinary criminals but it could easily be mistaken for it if it comes to the attitude of the personal. Their main policy is: your patient is your enemy. My relationship with them is now the following: I hate them and they hate me. I spent the last 10 days with throwing tantrums daily and accusing nurses and doctors with dilettantism and murder. None of them will ever know that I’m a genuinely nice person who was brought up to be polite and forthcoming even with her own killers.

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December 21, 2012

365/337

by ada

During the past three weeks I paused this project due to the sudden, very serious illness of my father. Neither did I have time for photography nor did I feel appropriate taking photos of my workday dinner plates while having so much other things to worry about. Now things seem to stabilize a bit and I’m sort of back in my regular life and to this project.

I planned to write about our infamous health care system and about how fragile and vulnerable you get at the moment you are put at the mercy of our health care professionals but really, it just has no sense at all. While it’s definitely not okay and makes me a very bad conscience, at this moment all I feel about Hungary is shame. I look at our politics, the way people interact each other, their mentality and its impact on everyday life and I feel shame for being Hungarian. And I look at the nurses in our hospitals, the lack of their professional knowledge, the way they communicate with patients and take care of them (or, actually the way they don’t take care of them), and I feel shame for being a nurse, I feel shame for ever having been part of this ridiculous game called Hungarian Health Care System.

I surely am pretty irritated right now and there surely are exceptions, of course. It’s just like I’d have lost the last of my illusions and the hope that things can ever get better in this country of corruption and desperation.

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