The Eight Doctor Medical

So last night I thought when I hit the sack that I would be able to sleep for two days. At 3 am Moscow time, I woke up and was able to go back to sleep around 6 am Moscow time, then got up at 9. Breakfast downstairs was nice. We hit it at 10:25 am, 5 minutes before it closed down, and they probably wondered at us for piling our plates, but we knew we would not see food again for a while.

At 11 am, a translator from our agency, Tania, picked us up. With a driver. A driver driving a van. A van that was a cross between a plumber's work van, a nursery, and a 70's lounge. We lounged it in back, Tania rode up front with the driver. We had our passports, our x-rays, our blood tests, and $1700 in crisp $100 bills.

It took us, and I am not kidding, 45 minutes to drive approximately one mile. I guess it may have been a little over a mile because we had to drive in a circle to the back entrance of the pretty green and white building in central Moscow where the President's Clinic is located. Moscow trafffic is INSANE. Not insane like China where road rules are merely suggestions. Insane like you move at a snail's pace and spend most of your time sitting still. In fact, our driver would sometimes just turn off the engine when we were waiting to go forward.

The clinic is in a very large building. Pale green with white trim that could be described as roccoco. I wish I had taken a photo, but there really wasn't a good time to do that. We pulled into a pretty courtyard and went inside and our translator checked us in. She said this was her first time there because she usually works with Kirov families and Kirov does not require the Eight Doctor.

The check in lady was interested in my middle name, which is my maiden name. It is Czech. Two of the doctors asked about it as well. It's interesting seeing your name written in Cyrrilic, btw.

At least the chairs were usually comfy.

The medical exams were a little like running a sprint in stages. The Tour du France, adoptive parent style . The lady in the white lab coat would lead us forward at a record pace and then we'd sit outside the office in chairs and then I would go first and then C, always separately. Then we would rush to the next appointment. The offices varied from the size of my college dorm room (basic two-bedder with room to walk around) to something maybe the size of an average walk-in closet. There were, apparently A LOT of offices in this building. Sometimes there was a table to lie down on, sometimes there wasn't.

The dermatologist. Took off all clothes including bra except undies. Looked at my feet, my legs, my chest. Told to raise my arms. Told to put them down. Turned around. Told to get dressed. rinse, lather, and repeat for C. Signed, stamped, USDA prime beef, baby.

Tania was in the room translating each time, but would sometimes stand behind a screen when I disrobed and sometimes there was no screen. She made a point of telling me after my first appt before Corey's turn, that she would definitely stand with her back to him when necessary.

The neurologist. Have I ever been treated by a neurologist? Had I ever had a concussion? Tapped on the wrist, elbows, knees, ankles, felt my spine (clothes on). Stick out your tongue. Signed, stamped, inspected, if you can call it that.

The oncologist. Had I ever been treated by an oncologist? Did I have any complaints in this area? Had I been getting mammograms and breast exams? Were the results good? Strip to waist, swallow with his hand over my larynx, the most tentative breast exam ever (no arm over head, pressing in circles...more like a series of mild side-squeezes) lay down, undo waist of pants. Explain laproscopic scars (Tania was stumped by "uterus"...I had to go with "the place where the baby would grow"). Pushed, poked, prodded abdomen. Any pain? Nope. Stick out your tongue. More signing and stamping.

The infectious disease specialist. Had I ever had a disease? I was stumped. A cold, flu? No, a disease like listed. She was reviewing the blood work and the diseases we were required to be tested for were Hep B, Hep C, HIV, Syphillis, and Tuberculosis. Nope, none of those. Where do you live? Texas. This weather must be very cold for you. It is a lot warmer back home. Do you have children? pets? no, no. Have you been to Asia or Africa? No Mexico? yes What year? 2004. Not recently? No, not since 2004. No swine flu for you. Have fun storming the castle.

The family doctor. Do you have any complaints? Do you feel well? Take off shirt, leave the bra on. Stand, turn around, sit, blood pressure cuff, stick out tongue. Next!

The psychologist. Tell me about your family. What is your profession? What are your hobbies? Do you have any children? NEXT!
(This one asked C if he liked to travel. ??)
The psychologist was a two for one special...he also signed and stamped as the drug/alcohol doctor, after reviewing the blood work we submitted, although he never asked about our alcohol consumption and the translator was surprised by that. Did they require our cholesterol levels, blood sugars, etc? Nope. Blood work for STD's and illicit drugs. No disease-ridden drug addicts allowed.

At this point, we had a 45 minute wait for the last doctor, so we went to the pharmacy for water and C took a quick nap in a chair. That's C on the right and Tania in front of him getting ready to order for us.

The pulmonologist. Waited in the hall while she read the x-rays we had brouht with us. Ever smoked? Ever had permanent bronchitis or lung infection? Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Breathe deeply. Signed, stamped, diploma awarded.

Three hours and seven doctors and we were deemed healthy and sane, although the pulmonologist told C he had had a serious lung disease in the past and should go to his doctor when he got home.

We were done with the appointments by 3pm, but had to wait a long while for the man to come and take our money. While waiting, C had a nap and I had a nice chat with a lady from Virginia there for the same reason we were. Adopting Olga from Tver. Talking with other adoptive parents is nice. They get it. Adoption is not something most people know a thing about, other than that their neighbor/cousin/stepsister's friend's brother did it. Which is fine and perhaps as it should be. But the knitty gritty details of it are something that is not portrayed in movies and TV. It is like a secret society of parents who have BTDT, and have the bank statements and numerous inspections to prove it. USDA prime Choice, all of us. In Virginia, they do not have a cap on apostille fees either. Seriously, we Texans have it made in that regard. We don't pay more than $100 per child regardless of how many apos we need. In Virginia it is $10 and $5 for any that are also dated the same day by the same notary. In CA, I think it is something like $20 a pop indefinitely. I had to get 82 apostiles in February and I have had maybe 30-40 since then.
Do the math.

Paperwork in hand and $1700 lighter, we then met the driver, who picked up Zhanna who rode in the back of the baby boogie van with us and we drove for a while to an Aeroflot office that was probably two streeets over so that we could deal with a flight issue we have/had. I won't bore you with the details.

This is Tverskaya street, close to our hotel. None of those cars were moving.

We only had tonight to do ANY sight seeing here, so once we got back to the hotel, we headed out again. We walked/took the metro down to Red Square. The metro takes some getting used to. We have been on metros in Paris and London and C has been on the Moscow one 20 years ago, so ordinarily we are fine and not to brag, but I am really good with maps and directions. This Metro, though..well, the letters aren't even the same. It takes some getting used to.

We hit the station near our hotel for tickets and there are no automated machines. Cashier only. two desks. At least 50-60 people in line, I kid you not. It was rush hour. Line out the door of the station. After ten minutes and moving forward two feet to the inner set of entrance doors, we decided to hoof it in the direction of both Red Square and the next station, down Tverskaya. It was 6ish and it gets dark around 8:30, so tour time was limited.

We walked and walked and walked some more. Found the next station. 4 people in line. Bought passes. Spent a full 10 minutes there trying to figure out the signs/direction we needed to get on, and it wasn't even a connecting station, just a stop on the green line. Relied heavily on the guide book and metro maps. Guide book told us to be sure and count the stops because you cannot see the station name on the platform from the train. No, I am not kidding. You know how when you pull into Piccadilly Circus and there is a Tube sign that says "Piccadilly Circus" on the wall every 10 yards and you know to get off because that is Piccadilly Circus? Not here. They announce it. As if we could understand. So we counted and did okay.

Trinity Tower in the fading light.

St. Basil's

A couple asked us to take their picture, then they took ours.

Mickey D's

I know, it's so gauche to eat at McDonald's overseas. Or so they say. Look, I enjoy the native cuisine as much as anybody. I am well-travelled. However, I like to see the differences in Mickey D menus and lets' face it, sometimes you need fast, cheap, and reliable and if McDonald's is anything, it is those three things.

This was the most crowded McDonald's we've ever seen, and we've seen some crowded ones, especially in Holland. 6 or 7 lines, all at least 7 or 8 people deep. Point and eat food is your friend when you don't have your translator. Two fingers up. Dvah (two) those (while pointing at a big picture of their version of a Big and Tasty). The only burger we knew how to pronounce was the Big Mac, which, even in Cyrillic, looks like it says Big Mac, but I am not a Big Mac fan, so we pointed at a big picture over her head. I have no idea how C ordered whole meals because I was being shuffled around a bit behind him.

Sy Basil's lit up.

Sore feet, C's back still bothering him and getting worse today, time to head back to the hotel.

The Moscow Metro is DEEP underground.

The Russian KFC

Tomorrow Zhanna will pick us up at 5:15 am to drive us to the airport. We will go straight from the airport to the baby home to see N. We are required to visit her twice, so we will visit in the morning and then again in the afternoon. I am sorry to say that we will not post photos of her here until after court on Wednesday when she is officially ours forever. We are SO CLOSE NOW and I'm not taking any chances.

Thank you so much for all the messages and good wishes. They mean the world to us. This is such a long journey in so many ways and it is nice to know we are being cheered on and that so many people feel a connection to us and our baby girl.

It's a little after midnight. I'm going to check some messages, take some Advil PM, set alarms for 4am, and hit the sack. C has been a sleep for a while now.

Dobryy vecher until tomorrow.