healthcare, schmealthcare

Let's say that I am in the mood to tell you a real story, of a family I know well....
They were hitting apparently a rought patch in Cuba, and that family and my own have been friends from way back when, as it said in good Habanero, el Morro era de palo.
They seemed not to have an ounce of luck.
One day the man of the house comes over and tells us that his wife is in the Joaquin Albarran, also known as Clinico Quirurgico de 26 y Boyeros, with a huge case of something, she's got jaundice, she's dark yellow. We knew what to do, and we called a doctor who worked there.... The guy was leaving, after one of those grueling shifts with what the best Cuban doctors are rewarded, he had worked 72 hours straight, and his nurse told him, hey, the Bravo household's calling... The guy went back into the ER, located our friend, and his diagnostic was: "a bad case of hepatitis".
Next thing we knew, is...
The nurse, a beautiful gusana with a thing for badboys gets a list in my pocket, and tells me, "we don't have any of this, can you please bring all of that for tu tia?"
1- Pillows and pillow cases.
2- Bedsheets.
3- Soap and detergent.
4- Rubbing alcohol, for if she gets a fever.
5- Pijamas or house dress.
6- Slippers.
We discovered that we had to bring also food. Like in meat and soups, and milk and fruits.
Then we discovered that it was full of roaches, in there, and that in the back of the hospital there were rats. And that the doctors were called to go to Belize and Haiti, and that we needed to get someone from the USA to send the most common medications and antibiotics.
Not to talk about bringing an electrical fan, lest the aunt fainted in the middle of a hot Havana night. Thanks goodness they had electricity, because.... well, what the hell do you do with the morgue's "inhabitants".
I had a Chinese bicycle, which was very useful to take blood, urine, and feces samples to another hospital, the Calixto Garcia in order to run a bunch of tests. And don't forget to leave a lamb rack with the nurse, if you wanted your tests back. And three litres of milk for the lab technician....
Back to the hospital with the tests, put a five inside the apron pocket of the cleaning lady, because what the hell is that?
the old lady that was by auntie just peed on the floor!
Then go and tell the nurse that you have a nice fuck-me red flask of nail polish for her, but hello, that fucking fat guy just heard the fat lady sing, so please cover the motherfucker with an old sheet and get some kid to cart him away.
Good thing the doctor came....
and he goes, she's fucked -tu tia esta jodida!- get her home, she has hepatitis de la mala and get your uncle to sleep in the sofa and not even kiss her.... because he'd get that shit too and I am only one!
Don't get me wrong, but those Cuban doctors are great... The thing is that for great that you're you cannot work in mediaeval conditions without mediaeval results!
And you know what they say now in Cuba?
"I want to emigrate to Venezuela" why? "my doctor's there!"
So much for the freaking propaganda....
Maybe kasstro's doctor went to Venezuela too.... he had to call a Spaniard!
But, you know what? A castro no lo salva ni el medico chino!
Don't believe me?
Move to Cuba, and don't even try to return to la Yuma on a raft!