When a Health Scare Comes Far From Home

The scare itself is rarely the hard part, as people tell it.

By Neil Solomon · 3 min read

Picture a couple named Walter and Inés. They have been in their new town for eight months. One evening Walter has a pain in his chest that does not go away, and Inés is standing in the kitchen with her phone, trying to remember the word for "ambulance."

I think this is the scene many of us keep in a back room of the mind. We do not talk about it much. But the people I read about who have gone through something like it tend to describe the same shape. First comes the fear. Then comes a surprising amount of ordinary kindness. Then comes a quiet question about where to recover and who is there to help.

How it differs by place

Colombia. One retiree describes a heart attack in Medellín that ended gently. What stands out to me is the word "gently." The story is not about a close call. It is about a person who expected the worst and found she could be looked after, and who then felt less afraid of living there.

Panama. Another person describes walking weight off, and then choosing to have surgery back in the home country. Both things were true at once. The new place gave the good habits. The old place gave the comfort of a known surgeon and a familiar bed.

Nicaragua. A man who retired after a stroke spends part of each year there and the rest elsewhere. I read that as a quiet answer to the question many of us ask: must it be all or nothing? For him it was not.

Costa Rica. A writer there says the urge to fly home is strong when you feel unwell and far from your people. That is honest, and I think it is true for most of us, wherever we live.

Uruguay. One woman sold her house, retired, and knew no one when she arrived. What I take from her story is not a medical point. It is that when you know no one, a health problem feels larger, because there is nobody to sit in the waiting room.

What I notice

The scare itself is rarely the hard part, as people tell it. The hard part is the hours around it. Who knows your medicines? Who has your passport number? Who can speak to the nurse when you cannot?

Walter and Inés sat with this after a good doctor sent him home with a clear plan.

"I was more afraid of not knowing where anything was than of the pain," Inés said.

"Then let's write it all down this week," Walter said. "Before we need it."

I like that answer. It does not remove the risk. It makes the next scare smaller.