Moscow, Russia

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you – it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you… Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”

Anthony Bourdain

Ah, the breathtaking capital of the Mother Land, full of culture, art, and serene architecture; Moscow, Russia. This was my next stop, after spending some time with my relatives in Rostov. I have to say, the new airport that was constructed for the FIFA World Cup in Rostov was one of the nicest ones I’ve been to!

When I landed in Domodedovo Airport, one of the 3 airports in Moscow, my dad’s cousin – whom I’ll just refer to as my aunt because I’m not sure what the exact name for that relationship would be in English – drove to pick me up. She asked me what color clothing I was wearing, and I laughed saying, I’ll be the girl with the backpacks. And it’s true, when I travel, I am draped front and bag in backpacks, and at this point in my travels, I had accumulated a couple more purses that were slung across my body.

While my mom’s side of the family lives in Rostov (my birth town), my dad’s side resides in Moscow. When I visit, I always spend time with my aunt and uncle and their daughter who is 3 days younger than me. Then there’s my aunt’s father/my grandpa’s brother, and his wife, who live in the countryside near the city. My aunt is a busy realtor in Moscow, and she is just so full of energy. She is the ultimate Moscow-city woman, and a minute spent with her is never boring. She loves to tell stories, show her guests around, and really embody the Russian culture. 

Now, I only spent about 6 days in Moscow. I had intended to stay longer, especially because my grandparents who live in Florida (my dad’s parents) also came to visit their family at this time in Russia, so we had a bit of family reunion.

They planned on taking a trip up to St. Petersburg later, a city that I’ve never visited but would love to. But my stomach bug was still at it, and after being away from home for almost 6 months, I cut my trip to Russia short and bought a flight back to the United States for a week-long layover to try to recover before my next destination.

We drove out straight from the airport to the countryside, to a summer home called a dacha where the (Moscow) grandparents now resided permanently in retirement. My grandpa built this house himself, and it is near a river, surrounded by lush green hills.

During the weekend on the dacha, I watched everyone around me eat delicious food, sat on the porch looking out onto nature, went on walks with my relatives in the evenings, and spent hours chatting and hearing everyone’s stories. The only downside was the heat, which I couldn’t escape despite being more north in Moscow.

When I got back to the city, I was very happy to be sleeping in an air-conditioned room once again. Although, I still struggled to actually sleep, since I was still recovering from my insomnia. That, and the further north you get, the less time it is dark in the summer (only about 4 hours in Moscow). Way up in St. Petersburg, it is light around the clock in June, and this phenomenon is called “Beliye Nochi” (white nights).

A Visit to the Doctor

Since I had a flight back to the United States in several days, I decided it was time to visit a doctor before leaving. Why in Russia you may ask? I have travelers’ insurance that covers any medical expense as long as I am “still traveling.” I must be 100 miles or more away from home, and given how expensive doctor’s visits in the US are with no insurance, I knew I had to go in Moscow before departing. My aunt scheduled an appointment for me with a gastroenterologist in the city.

So on Monday morning, we took the subway to the doctor. The metro stations in Moscow are gorgeous; they might be the most intricate I’ve encountered in the world. Especially the historic ones in the city centers, they have chandeliers, paintings, and beautiful architecture inside. The metro is also quite deep underground, and you ride these huge escalators up and down to get to the actual trains.

After checking in, I headed up to speak with the doctor about my ailments. Now, I speak Russian fluently, but I do mix up words frequently, and also forget the meaning of words that I don’t use on a daily basis. So when the doctor asked me if I drank, I told him. In Russian, there are two forms of the word “drink”; one that implies you are an alcoholic, and the other that you socially drink. I am a social drinker, but I kept using the wrong word to describe this to the doctor. So our conversation went something like –

Doctor: “Do you drink?”
Me: "Yep"
Doctor: "How often?"
Me: “Well, sometimes daily," - thinking back to when I drank wine all the time in New Zealand and Australia - "but I’ve been trying to cut down! I didn’t drink while I was in Nepal!”
Doctor, looking increasingly worried: “What drinks do you consume?”
Me: “Weird question, well.. anything really.. vodka, beer, wine, cocktails”
Doctor, more concerned: “Do you get hangovers?”
Me, thinking back to the several+ times a year when I had one too many drinks: "Well yes, if I drink too much, but doesn’t everyone?”

The doctor carries on to check my body for signs of alcoholism, thinking that is the problem with my indigestion. After looking for symptoms, he seems confused and tells me he doesn’t think I’m an alcoholic. And I tell him that I don’t think I am either? And that was how I learned how to use the appropriate form of the word “to drink” in Russian.

Anyway, after a general examination, he tells me that he can’t find an obvious reason as to why my gut has been unwell the past several weeks. He says all my vitals are fine, and he suggested some pancreatic medication to take in the upcoming week and to eat very simple low-fiber foods. He then advised that I need to do some lab work to see what’s on the inside of my gut. This meant I needed to do a blood test, ultrasound, and give urine and stool samples.

Now for Americans with no insurance, that sounds very expensive right? But in Russia, where there is universal healthcare, my total ended up coming up to 240$ dollars for the entire doctor’s visit. And then later, my traveler’s insurance paid me back for all of this. Despite how cheap it was, not everything went as smoothly as I would have hoped.

I headed down to meet with a nurse to get my blood drawn. I generally do not like giving blood and needles piercing skin makes me squeamish. Typically nurses are comforting at times like these, talking me through the process so I remain calm. Not this one though. First, I see her take out a needle, that looked to me to be about 10 times thicker than any needle I’ve seen before. She may as well have stabbed me with a knife to get the blood that way, I’m sure it would have been equal levels of pain. She then proceeds to put it into my vein, turns away to look for a container to put the blood in, all the while wiggling the needle ever so slightly. It hurt and I could feel myself getting woozy as the minutes trickled by. I told her that I wasn’t feeling great, so she instantly removed the needle. 

This would have been fine, if she had gotten enough blood. She then tells me that we still need 1 mL of blood, which annoyed me that she took it out too soon. I mean yes, I didn’t feel my best, but I could have waited half a minute more if that’s all she needed. So again, she stabs me in my left arm now, where nobody can successfully find a vein anyway for me, wiggles the needle around, and removes it when she fails to get any blood.

There is a moment where we are looking at each other and she’s telling me that we still need more blood and that she could stab me again in the original hole in the arm. Umm no thank-you, I’m already bruised there! She asks if I would be okay with the inside wrist to get the blood. Also, no thank-you. Finally, she puts it in a spot on the back of my hand, near the thumb and index finger. It actually sounds worse than it is, but that one was the least painful for me. She finally got enough blood.

By this point, she and some of the other nurses in the room seemed quite annoyed at me. Even though I didn’t technically do anything wrong, and I’m generally not used to this kind of behavior from nurses back home. I ask if I could have a glass of water. My arms were throbbing in pain from the stabbings and I closed my eyes to gather myself for a moment. All of a sudden, the nurse yells “WAKE UP!” and sprays water in my face. Not exactly what I had in mind when I asked for a glass of water. But I assured her that I was, indeed, awake.

The whole process sucked. She wrapped my arms in bandaids and then a gauze wrap, and I could barely bend my elbows without being in pain from the bruises. I made my way upstairs to do my ultrasound. The woman conducting it, seemingly not in a good mood, told me to lay down and handed me some gel that she told me to rub on my stomach.

She rubs the scanner all around my belly, and at one point, tells me to hold my breath. I take a deep breath and hold, for what seems like an extended period of time, and she’s not saying anything, so I let it go. She stops what she is doing, looks at me exasperated, and says, “I will tell you when you can breathe again.” So we try again, I hold my breath, and then she finally tells me to exhale. She makes a printout of the ultrasound, tells me everything looks fine, and I leave her exam room.

I was pretty frustrated with this doctor’s visit. I also did not need to go number 2, so they handed me little containers, small spoons, and a plastic bowl, and told me to do my business at home, scoop it into the containers, and bring it back tomorrow. You can imagine how amused I felt the next day, riding the metro, with those little contains in my purse (now full).

It hadn’t been the best doctor’s visit, regarding customer service. But they did all the tests they needed to do and for a good price, so I can’t complain too much. They told me the results wouldn’t be ready for a week, and I told them they will have to send them to me by email since I would no longer be in the country by that time. When the analysis did arrive the following week, they found no alarming negative results. I had been worried about a parasite or something. After following the strict diet and medication, I eventually healed, so I suppose we will never know exactly what was wrong with me back then.

I spent my last days hanging out with my cousins and aunt in Moscow. We did some sightseeing, bonding, and I left on happy terms. It was such a short trip to Moscow, but I’m happy that I got to see everyone, get diagnosed by a doctor, and see some of the beautiful city!

-Anastasia