A stomach virus is going around school and our little one happened to catch something!  He seems well until the middle of the night, and then doesn’t feel good anymore. And then in the morning, he’s fine again. But today at school towards the end of the day, I received a call from Nurse Anita at the school. She is a typical Dutch lady who is full of pride and loves her job and the kids and has a strong opinion. She asked me to come pick him up and told me how this virus was going around school. She told me I didn’t need to see the doctor, but I already had made an appointment.

I don’t like going to the Doctor and don’t like to be a hypochondriac but I thought I should maybe take him in, just in case there was an obstruction in his tummy or something. When I called the doctor at 3:15 pm, he actually answered the phone himself. He told me that I was calling a bit late, and to come in at 5 pm.

When we arrived and checked in with the receptionist, she told us to have a seat in the waiting room and the doctor would be right with us. I didn’t have to fill out any paperwork. I didn’t have to show any ID or insurance documents. The doctor came into the waiting room to greet us, shook our hands and escorted us personally to his office. We sat down at his desk and chatted for awhile and then he invited Char to climb up on his examining table that was also in his office. There wasn’t a nurse or assistant doing anything to help out. They didn’t take his temperature. Nor did they weigh him. I kind of liked the personal touch of being human and not scaring the shit out of my kid. There was no intimidation and rather it was quite peaceful, even though we’d never really been to the doctor yet in Holland. He listened to Charlie’s stomach and let Charlie hear his own stomach. He told us that everything sounded and felt fine, and to watch and monitor him and to call back tomorrow if there was more discomfort. He told us of a delicate pain medicine we could give him over the counter and that we could pick it up downstairs in the pharmacy. When we went down to the pharmacy to buy the medicine, again they didn’t ask any probing questions and gave us the 50 pills that cost 1 euro and 20 cents. Really? Can you really believe that was even possible? Really?  I think I like it here.

The doctor also gave us the number for the local hospital in case we needed care.  He shook our hand, patted us on the back and wished us well as we left. A true, family man and a new friend in Holland.