Surrealism, Part II - Zero humanity

So, I finally managed to find the clinic building I was looking for, in this big yard, a big area of ​​the university clinics. There are actually two buildings, so of course I went into the wrong building first, where it said registration, but I had gone there without an appointment, with just a handwritten sheet of paper, so the registration was of no use to me. I wasted a few minutes thinking about my situation and deciding what to do, then I went outside and entered the other building.
I won't describe what I saw there, because you can imagine from the pictures you'll see. I will just mention that on the wall in the hallway on the first floor there is a list of room numbers and names/doctor's offices, and this list looked at least 50-70 years old. And of course, an ordinary person like me, who steps there for the first time, has no chance of finding my way around and finding the right doctor's office, so I immediately turned to the first person who opened a door in the hallway and went outside. "The laboratory is on the basement floor", she said. So, I went to the basement, which is only two flights of stairs away from the first floor, and there, of course, I again did not find the door to the laboratory I was looking for and stopped in front of the only door behind which voices could be heard, it was the door to a "manipulation room", where they removed stitches and so on. I waited for the door to finally open to let the next patient in, and then I asked again for the room of the laboratory I was looking for, they told me the door number, and I walked down the hallway. This hallway.

As I already said in the previous post, I had no desire to take pictures, I was too scared then after all the events of the day, another terrible diagnosis and the current terrible examination that was coming up in this very laboratory. But how could I miss this. Even so scared, I couldn't help but take into account the fact where I was. In what conditions I was there.
A hospital in which, as I said, millions and billions of state and private funds are probably circulating on an annual basis, a hospital in which payments are made only in cash, large sums, as it turned out later, where everything is very expensive, and at the same time, antediluvian, where doctors do not do any work and do not want to work and also do not show a drop of humanity or compassion towards a patient.
In this hospital, the basement, where the laboratories are located and part of the large sums are received, is flooded, as I later found out, not for the first time, but on a regular basis, the "new" joinery on the doors between the wards in the corridor testifies that once, a long time ago, there was a renovation in these premises, but it was a one-time renovation and a long time ago, because the benches, cabinets and everything in this corridor is 50-70 years old again, surprisingly well preserved, considering the floods.

I found the door I was looking for. However, it turned out to be locked. Even upstairs, the woman I asked for directions said that the lab technician was out today. But I didn't have another day or another option to do this test, so I stubbornly went down to the basement.
The next door had the name of some professor on it, it was also locked. But I stubbornly stood in front of all the doors until a young man in a white coat appeared and told me to wait for the professor, "she's doing her doctor's rounds right now." But "yes, the lab assistant is out today."

I sat on the bench in front of the door. One of these benches, as I told you, I think is 50-70 years old.
And despite all my worries and fears, I couldn't resist taking a picture of this:

A door to an expensive laboratory, the only one in the country that performs this type of research, and a door to a professor's office. My God!
Now do you understand what I mean by my unconscious comparison to Kafka's plots? Or not? Because I haven't started with that question yet.
For now, the only thing that remains/weighs down is the unpleasant feeling that something is wrong here, that this is not a normal state, that this should not be the case. That you come here with pain, with a problem, that you expect this problem to be somehow clarified, that you will pay a lot of money for this, a lot by Bulgarian standards, and you are welcomed in these conditions. And you are not welcomed at all, at that!

The professor didn't show up. But after a long waiting in the empty corridor, a young doctor walks by and politely asks me who I'm waiting for.
I can't even comprehend at first this politeness. "I'm waiting for the professor because I found out the lab assistant isn't here, and I need to get this test done," I say.
"She's not here, but I'll take over her job," the young woman says, "come inside." And I breathe a sigh of relief. At least something will happen today. Not all is lost, I think.

The young woman starts writing down data by hand "in the journal". Then she starts explaining the procedure to me. The first and most important thing is to go and withdraw money from the ATM, the only one in the entire huge courtyard of the university hospital, because: despite the large amount that needs to be paid, the hospital does not accept card payments.(!!!) And also: "I'm not sure if the office issues invoices, they can give a receipt (handwritten) that you paid this amount, but I don't know about more," she says.

I don't know if you've ever dealt with an institution that accepts unaccounted funds in a similar way. In recent days, there has been talk of a scandal in a local private Obstetrics and Gynecology hospital, in the safety vault of which over 3 million leva, or over 1 million and 500 thousand euros, were kept. I wouldn't be surprised if the case here is the same. But look at the environment and the conditions in which these funds are collected!

And here I would like to note that I really confused the young woman's politeness with humanity. This, as it turned out later, is simply a hypocritical attitude towards yet another "piggy bank" from which funds will be drained, regardless of whether any work will be done in return for these funds or not.

She very patiently explained several times how to find this single ATM in the huge hospital yard. It was obvious that this was not her first time. But in the end, this is mainly her job - to do everything so that this money can be given, taken, and then distributed, not according to its intended purpose and need, as can be seen from the condition of the corridor and the premises.

So I set off on this new assignment. I remembered that on my way to here I actually passed a nondescript building with an ATM on it, so it wasn't that hard to find my way around. Even without signs. But it would have been brutally obvious what the hospital's primary purpose was if they had put up signs pointing to the one and only ATM on its grounds.
But before I put my card in this "ATM", I thought about it. The machine looked to be in a very bad condition. It was covered in dust and dirt, covered in cobwebs. One would say that it has not been used for years. I was afraid that it would not even give my card back if I put it in now.
It took me a second to assess the situation. There was a phone number posted on it, for emergency cases, it was a business day, another person was already waiting behind me to also withdraw some large amount from their account. And this ATM, given the awareness of the conditions we were in, was used every day, many times a day, it was simply unmaintained and uncleaned. Like everything else on this grounds.

So I just inserted my card, withdrew the money, took it back and went back to the clinic. The young woman gave me a piece of paper, sent me to another wing of the hospital, which was a complicated and convoluted way to get to, where they did the test, which was supposed to be with local anesthesia, but in fact the anesthesia didn't work and I was in a lot of pain.

And then I went to pay.
"Are you going to issue me an invoice?", I began, even though I had already been told that invoices were not issued.
"But of course, how could we not issue you an invoice! We are not some people here who collect unaccounted funds in cash.", the woman began to speak theatrically.
"Are you kidding me?" I asked in surprise. I really didn't know what to expect in this place and from these people any more. But still, I had been told a little while before that invoices were not issued here. "I'm not kidding. We will issue you an invoice," the woman said.

A little later, observing the events and the behavior of the people, I realized that this woman had been warned in advance by the young doctor that "a woman will come who will ask for an invoice". And of course, in such a situation, one should not take risks. Not many people ask for invoices, but one should not take any chances even with one who has asked, because he may complain somewhere and then... the whole scheme of unaccountable collection and distribution of funds may come to light. Especially against the background of the miserable working conditions in which this money is collected.

So, maybe I thought that everything was ready, that everything could be over here and now. But no. The young woman I returned to after paying the amount in a completely different wing and a different place, said this: "You have to come and get your result in 7 business days."
"But I can't come here again after 7 working days," I replied, scared and amazed.
To come back to the capital, I need to take at least one day off, maybe even two if I'm going to come by the unregulated public transport, because I won't be able to go and come back within a day, considering the supposed waiting in the hallways of this clinic... just for someone to show up and unlock the locked doors of the lab. And that would also cost me a lot of money, because overnight stays in the capital aren't cheap.

"Okay, give me your phone number and I'll send you the results there via Viber, in PDF format," the young doctor says kindly. "There's no other option than to come here in person. But I'm making this commitment."

I should be happy. And I was. Really. But my God, there's a PDF somewhere, it's online. And I have to go back to this hospital to get my results in person! After everything I've been through, after everything that had to be done that day. But the young woman wrote down my phone number in the journal and promised. So I left, albeit with great physical pain, with some hope.

And more than a month after all this, I still haven't received the result. Of this test for a life-threatening condition, for which I paid so much money...

Humanity... no way! Absolutely zero!

Thank you for your time! Copyright:	@soulsdetour
	Soul's Detour is a project started by me years ago when I had a blog about historical and not so popular tourist destinations in Eastern Belgium, West Germany and Luxembourg. Nowadays, this blog no longer exists, but I'm still here - passionate about architecture, art and mysteries and eager to share my discoveries and point of view with you.

Personally, I am a sensitive soul with a strong sense of justice.
Traveling and photography are my greatest passions.
Sounds trivial to you?
No, it's not trivial. Because I still love to travel to not so famous destinations.🗺️
Of course, the current situation does not allow me to do this, but I still find a way to satisfy my hunger for knowledge, new places, beauty and art.
Sometimes you can find the most amazing things even in the backyard of your house.😊🧐🧭|