After weeks of researching Brazil’s public health care system (SUS) and why it doesn’t work, I had the dubious pleasure of becoming a first-hand witness to the process. Add this to the list of my life’s ironic twists, I guess. After a couple of days of feeling pretty lousy, it became clear that I needed to see a doctor, and quickly. My boss’ recommendation? A public health clinic (go figure!), where I could get antibiotics without worrying about being a foreigner, health plans, and all that pesky paperwork. After so much “academic” dealing with SUS, it was time for the “practicum” – and boy, was I in for it.
I went to a clinic in a, shall we say, rough neighborhood here in São Paulo. And I waited. And waited. And – you guessed it – waited some more. I watched the scores of people all around me, all in various states of ill-health, and all invariably bored and suffering. Think of a combination between an American DMV and an emergency room; are you scared yet?
Now, I’m not sure if this is normal, or was just the luck of the draw (based on the stories I’ve heard, I’m leaning towards normal), but it took a full two days before I was able to drag my increasingly sick self out of the clinic with a prescription clutched in my clammy hands. I could have gotten it filled for free at the clinic (it’s rather ingeniously set up as a sort of one-stop shop) but that would have meant: tah-dah! tons more waiting.
A more pessimistic type would walk away from this advising any and all that it is not a good idea to get sick in Brazil without money and/or influential connections. An FM Scout, on the other hand, walks away with a firm commitment to a personal mission. Now, when SUS’ shortcomings come up at Saútil, I can nod wisely, and feel confident that my two days in hell’s waiting room will ultimately translate to fewer people having the same experience (best summed up as: WAITING).