A Cultural Shock: My first encounter with the US Health Care System 2/2

I did not understand why they kept asking me questions on the sidewalk. Wouldn't it be more convenient (and less embarrassing) to put me into their big ambulance and just ask me everything in there? Otherwise could I just be released and continue my way to the nearest hospital? As I was about to ask them these questions, another loud ambulance pulled in front of us. Another crew of people jumped out of it and approached me. I was getting really scared. I just had a cut on my eyebrow or was there something else going on here that they had requested another ambulance? I checked myself again; everything seemed to be in place. As the first crew left, the new one was approaching and the questions began again. I found it interesting that I went through the same series of questions one more time. Again, I failed the one about the health insurance number. They may have been testing my alert status but couldn't they just get my information from the first crew of paramedics? Why was I still lying in the middle of the street? Too many questions were going through my mind at that moment.

Finally, I was escorted to the ambulance. Once there and with no more audience, an idea assaulted my mind: how much is this going to cost me? I was tempted to ask them whether I could just make my way to the nearest hospital. It was just 2 blocks and I was not bleeding anymore. It would not have been any problem for me. Unfortunately I was not brave enough to ask them. Once in the ambulance, I was asked: "To which hospital do you want to be taken?" I looked at the paramedic that asked me this question. I was not sure I understood it right so he repeated it for me. To which hospital did I want to be taken? This may have been a question traditionally asked, but I just did not expect it. I am a medical doctor, and I knew by training that under emergency conditions, patients should be taken to the nearest hospital. This was certainly not a life-threatening condition, but I certainly wanted my eyebrow to be put together as soon as possible. So once I realized that he was waiting for my reply, I requested to be taken to the nearest hospital. But this idea of being taken to the nearest hospital in order to be treated as soon as possible failed to be true. I had to wait close to 4 hours for stitches. But I have to say that it was worth waiting. The doctor did a very good job. On the day of my wedding I could hardly see the scar. Even though there was not a visible physical memory of my accident, this was indeed a new and unforgettable experience for me, and certainly embarrassing enough to stop riding my bike and replace my cycling practices with the pleasure of walking.