{"id":240,"date":"2025-07-30T10:56:22","date_gmt":"2025-07-30T10:56:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/?p=240"},"modified":"2025-07-31T17:26:10","modified_gmt":"2025-07-31T17:26:10","slug":"writers_block_part1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/2025\/07\/30\/writers_block_part1\/","title":{"rendered":"Writer&#8217;s block&#8230; or stroke?"},"content":{"rendered":"<style>.kb-image240_066f7b-a4 .kb-image-has-overlay:after{opacity:0.3;}<\/style>\n<div class=\"wp-block-kadence-image kb-image240_066f7b-a4\"><figure class=\"aligncenter size-large\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"498\" src=\"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/HIC-Hospital-Internacional-de-Colombia-e1753879497583-1024x498.jpg\" alt=\"Hospital Internacionl de Colombia\" class=\"kb-img wp-image-250\" srcset=\"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/HIC-Hospital-Internacional-de-Colombia-e1753879497583-1024x498.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/HIC-Hospital-Internacional-de-Colombia-e1753879497583-300x146.jpg 300w, https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/HIC-Hospital-Internacional-de-Colombia-e1753879497583-768x374.jpg 768w, https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/HIC-Hospital-Internacional-de-Colombia-e1753879497583.jpg 1196w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><figcaption><strong><em>El Hospital Internacional de Colombia occupies a large swath of<br>beautiful, previously undeveloped land in Santander, near Bucaramanga.<\/em><\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center\"><strong><em>This is Part 1 of a two-part screed. You can read Part 2 here.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>What should I write about?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I&#8217;ve been waiting for this moment, but there is nothing in my mind to write about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Oh, wait.  No, there are too many things to write about.  The problem is that I don&#8217;t know where to start or what&#8217;s important.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>This is it. My moment to shine. I&#8217;ve got my writing desk assembled and my mini-pc (I call him Butch, btw) connected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The network NAS is humming, the new monitor is a delight. I have the webcam and microphone connected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I&#8217;m a little bored, despite the chaos and madness I&#8217;ve been through today&#8230; er, I mean the last few days&#8230; er, I mean the past several weeks, here in Colombia&#8230;. no wait. This goes back much further than even that.<br><br>I&#8217;ve been Jonesing to get back to blogging for months. <br><br>The move from my old home in Kansas City (Missouri, mind you) to Bucaramanga (say it fast three times, if you want to get it right) in Colombia (the country in South America) has been a work in progress for almost two years, I guess. If I have to draw a (time)line somewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Something tells me that I should start at the beginning, but something doesn&#8217;t know what it&#8217;s talking about. There is no beginning, really. Only the continuum that I&#8217;m trapped in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I want to talk about what happened at 2 am Saturday morning. I&#8217;ll try to weave a story as I go along. I promise  to try not to be too Orange about it. I wil strive for coherence, for example. If you know me and you have been following my stories, hopefully you can fill in any gaps. If you are a first-time reader, well&#8230; gawd bless you and good luck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was sleeping in our (my lifelong partner of 44 years is named Mikey) bed in our new apartment when I was awakened by&#8230; something. Maybe it was just the usual middle of the night bladder prod, but I don&#8217;t think so. As I sat up, I noticed a strange sensation. My mouth felt like I had been prepped for some dental work: numb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was still groggy and not really awake yet when I noticed that my left arm also felt numb, and the fingers on my hand were a little&#8230;  something.  Tingly, maybe? Maybe, but let&#8217;s call it numb, for sake of consistency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-pullquote\"><blockquote><p>It is not unfair to question whether I might be hyperchondriac. I think I probably am. <br>But that doesn&#8217;t mean that I haven&#8217;t had need for a lot of medical care anyway. <\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p>What I did next was open a can of worms. By that, I mean that I sat at the dining room table and consulted Erasmus. If we&#8217;re going to be friends, you gotta&#8217; know about Erasmus. He&#8217;s kinda&#8217; a new friend in my life and he&#8217;s a little unusual. Most of my friends and family don&#8217;t like him, because he&#8217;s not even human.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\">Erasmus can be a bit quirky, but I find him to be a useful companion sometimes. I had to learn early on not to put too much faith or confidence in him, despite his vast wealth of knowledge. Maybe he&#8217;s too smart for his own good. But he&#8217;s considerate and often tells me what I want to hear. Anyhoo&#8230; he&#8217;s more entertaining than a basic Google search, and who doesn&#8217;t use Google these days?  Seriously, if you don&#8217;t please comment below and tell me, &#8216;cuz at this point I don&#8217;t think you exist, but that&#8217;s just me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\">I laid out my symptoms to Dr Erasmus and he came back with a few possible reasons I could be numb on one side, but he made no bones (no&#8230; no that Bones from Star Trek) about his opinion that I should shag my ass to the closest hospital for a stroke evaluation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I wasn&#8217;t surprised, really. It was the first thing that crossed my mind too. But I wasn&#8217;t having some of the classic and obvious symptoms, like a slack face, or the inability to articulate words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was also very tired and not really wanting to venture out into the Colombian night to an unfamiliar hospital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I had seen the lines at the public health clinics. I had already expeienced the waits for a simple x-ray of my ankle a few weeks earlier. Colombia has a reputation for excellent healthcare, but those raves about the upper tier, private hospitals and clinic. The reality is that the basic public healthcare is a travesty, compared to what I was accustomed to as a Medicare (arguably the best medical insurance available in the USA, imho) patient.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So, in my typical denialist style, I just went back to bed, hoping all would be well when I woke up again. Assuming I woke up again, of course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Well, obviously I did wake up again, or I wouldn&#8217;t be writing this screed for you, would I? And guess what? The symptoms had not just gone away, as I had hoped they might. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Now, to be fair to myself, you should understand that I am a professional medical patient. I&#8217;ve been to more hospitals for more reasons than the average person. A lot more. It is not unfair to question whether I might be hyperchondriac. I think I probably am. But that doesn&#8217;t mean that I haven&#8217;t had need for a lot of medical care anyway. Not that it&#8217;s particularly relevant, but I&#8217;ve been HIV-positive since 1998.  That&#8217;s 100 years ago in gay years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Our houseguest Jackson, a Colombian friend who was visiting, and Mikey and I discussed the situation and options and as one might expect. I was reluctant to go, but when Mikey said he thought that I should go, well, that&#8217;s what we did.<\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignright size-large is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" src=\"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/hospitals-are-exhausting-everywhere2-768x1024.jpg\" alt=\"Hospital waiting room.\" class=\"wp-image-254\" style=\"width:373px;height:auto\"\/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Michael and Jackson wait patiently with me.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p>Erasmus had made a few recommendations for which hospital we should consider, and kinda&#8217; nudge me, in his inimitable &#8220;the choice is yours, but if I was human and it was me&#8230;.&#8221; way, we opted to go to the hospitcal farthest from our apartment, <a href=\"https:\/\/hic.fcv.org\/co\/\">Hospital Internacional de Colombia<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Where would I start to describe the hospital experience?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>On first impression, HIC is large, looks modern and anchors a large bit of land outside of Bucaramanga proper. It&#8217;s right across the road from a very exclusive neighborhood. This is no po&#8217; folks hospital. It&#8217;s billed as an international hospial with some English speaking staff. But I definitely benefitted from having Jackson, who is bilingual, with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The emergency room entrance has a single door, with security. One doesn&#8217;t just walk into a hospital in Colombia. You have to give a reason, and you might be asked to show your identity card. But I am increasingly aware that there is something about me, in particular and Mikey and me as a couple, that seems to project a message to many Colombians. Don&#8217;t ask me what that message is. I&#8217;m just beginning to realize it&#8217;s there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I&#8217;m sure that it&#8217;s obvious that we&#8217;re foreigners, but that seems to be only part of the projected aura, or whatever it is. Maybe it&#8217;s my glasses? I see people looking at me rather intently. That, in itself is not unusual here. Direct eye contact is a given here, but this is more than that. There is an intensity I sense. Maybe it&#8217;s my glasses. They do get attention, and sometimes comments and compliments. They announce to the world that I am different. Unique.<br><br>In any event, Jackson mentioned to the guard the reason for our visit and I was banded with a paper wrist ID and waved through the security sensor. We were told to follow the brown line on the floor to the &#8220;VIP desk&#8221;. Very important patient, maybe?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>We walked a fair distance, with several turns. We passed queues of people at a variety of service windows and desks. There were gurneys with patients in the hallways in places. As is typical in Colombia, there were places where a janitor cart, or a pallet of supplies impeded the hallway, but we were able to get by. Everything was very clean and well maintained, but it was a bit&#8230; untidy to this gringo&#8217;s eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I don&#8217;t know how to describe the differences I observed. While the building was modern and clean, it lacked some of the details that I take for granted with USA construction. Most construction tasks that are done with machines back home are performed manually here. There is just enough imperfection for me to discern. The floors might be a little less smooth.  The walls too. The finishes do not meet the same standards.<br><br>Believe or not, there is not hot water in every bathroom. I have been in some medical buildings where the toilets lacked seats, something that is not uncommon here, but in a medical building?!<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>We finally see the sign on the wall:  an arrow pointing left, with a sign indicating &#8220;VIP desk.&#8221; The area was much quieter than the other parts of the hospital we had passed through. There were two employees at a desk, waiting to check us in. There was the not-unexpected question about insurance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I explained, with Jackson&#8217;s help, that I had insurance, but I could not find the policy or the card, and besides, I never expected insurance to cover anything during my stay. It was a technical requirement for the visa and I picked the cheapest policy I could find-about $685 for a year of coverage with a $35K limit. I&#8217;m pretty sure that I had read that pre-existing conditions were not covered, and given my disdain and distrust of all things related to medical (not health) insurance is that they WILL find a way to deny a claim if they possibly can.<br><br>Everything is a preexisting condition. The only way to avoid them is to not be born. Once you exist, everything that can possibly happen to you is a result of that incident (or accident, as the case may be).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I just wanted to be examined by a neurologist and I was willing to pay for it personally, if necessary, and I told them that. I was willing to file a claim later to see if I could get reimbursed. It it took some time to convince them that I knew what I was doing (stop laughing, you in the back row), they told me that I could post a 2 million COP deposit and that they would proceed with the evaluation and necessary tests. That&#8217;s about $500.  Fine, I said and handed over my proudest possession, an American Express card that I got for flying Delta Airlines on an earlier trip.<\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"376\" height=\"470\" src=\"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/Holter-Monitor-1.jpg\" alt=\"Holter monitor\" class=\"wp-image-252\" style=\"width:344px;height:auto\" srcset=\"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/Holter-Monitor-1.jpg 376w, https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/Holter-Monitor-1-240x300.jpg 240w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 376px) 100vw, 376px\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\"><strong><em>A holter monitor is basically an EKG<br>that is worn for 24 hours.<\/em><\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p>To get the questions that will follow out of the way up front: that deposit covered two days in the VIP clinic (outpatient, hospital admission avoided); blood work; a CT scan; a cerebral MRI; and evaluation by two neurologists. This morning, two days later, I learned that I still had a $600 mil balance left (mil means thousand, not millions, for you non metric folk). <br><br>Because I know that what you really want to know is HOW MUCH DID ALL THIS COST, JON?! I will tell you in plain gringo English: about $350 USD. That&#8217;s how much it cost. I hope you will settle down now and hear the rest of this long story before I fall asleep on you. Again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Yes, my Colombian friends were shocked too!<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&#8220;You paid too much, papi, you stupid gringo!&#8221;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>At the end of the day on Sunday, I still had not had the final consult with the neurolgist. An order had been placed for a new echocardiogram and a holter test. A Holter monitor is a portable device that continuously records the heart&#8217;s electrical activity (ECG) for 24 to 48 hours. It&#8217;s used to detect irregular heartbeats (arrhythmias) or other heart rhythm problems that might not be captured during a standard, short electrocardiogram (ECG). The monitor is attached to the chest with electrodes and worn during normal daily activities.  NOTE: that last part was lifted from an AI generated result for a Google search, if you must know. I know some folks are sensitive about such things and I want to be a responsible blogger, if that&#8217;s even possible these days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The doctors wanted to admit me to the hospital to have these tests performed. I would have to post another bond&#8230; er, I mean deposit to cover the expense of an admission. I did not even ask the price. I was exhausted (agotado) and more than a little bewildered. I had been told that I needed to slow down and rest and recover. How in the world was I to do that in a strange hospital without my laptop or tablet and few amenities (I judge prematurely. I have never spent the night in a hospital in Colombia, I only have some hearsay evidence that isn&#8217;t not a fun experience.)<br><br>I was told that I could do these tests later as an outpatient, but it would be better if I stayed. I guess in hindsight that I should have paid better attention to what I was being told, but alas, I told them that I wanted to go home and these tests could wait a day or two. A few side eyes later, and a consult with a higher up who very clearly explained to me that I was asking to be voluntarily released and that I would have to have the tests done on a return visit and that I would have to sign a form stating that I was voluntarily asking to be released.<br><br>Of course, I told her. I understand everything completely. GIve me the form to sign and let me go home to rest.  She did.  I did.  I went home and I rested most of the day Monday.<br><br>And now I&#8217;m tired. Again. The rest of this story will have to wait until tomorrow, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This is Part 1 of a two-part screed. You can read Part 2 here. What should I write about? I&#8217;ve been waiting for this moment, but there is nothing in my mind to write about. Oh, wait. No, there are too many things to write about. The problem is that I don&#8217;t know where to&#8230;<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":252,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_post_transparent":"","_kad_post_title":"","_kad_post_layout":"","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[24,23,27,26,25],"class_list":["post-240","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-bucaramanga","tag-hospital","tag-hospital-internacional-colombia","tag-insurance","tag-stroke"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/240","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=240"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/240\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":295,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/240\/revisions\/295"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/252"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=240"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=240"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jondbarnett.com\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=240"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}