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| Angelika/Mike Schilli |
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I quickly looked for a doctor in our immediate vicinity and ended up in the heart of the Mission, the Latin American neighborhood that is, as you know, just around the corner from us. We went separately, and each of us told the same story afterward: In the waiting room, no one spoke English except for the receptionist, but the doctor, who was from the Philippines, spoke it quite well and seemed experienced.
He first underwent a very general examination. You know: looking in the throat, listening to the chest, measuring blood pressure, determining height and weight, etc. Then he injected us with the substance for the tuberculosis test and inquired in detail which vaccinations we had received in our childhood and adulthood, as well as which childhood diseases we had gone through. On his list for our age group were: mumps, measles, rubella, tetanus, diphtheria, polio, whooping cough, chickenpox. Oh, how pleased we were that, as an organized person, I could present all the vaccination records (even those from childhood). However, Michael had to bite the bullet: he had skipped rubella as a child and therefore had to get a vaccination. We paid $125 for my examination, and $175 for Michael's due to the additional vaccination.
Then it was off to the AIDS test. In the USA, by the way, the doctor sends you to special labs for blood tests. It's a bit inconvenient, but the people there are blood-drawing professionals since they do nothing else all day long. Our doctor sent us to a branch of St. Luke's Hospital right on Mission Street. When I arrived there, I initially thought something was off. I had to pass by shop windows that, in typical Mission tradition, advertised cheap, colorful goods with a South American flair, walk down a dark hallway, and finally stood in front of an office door. It didn't look like a lab at all. However, the sign on the door indicated that I was in the right place. Bravely, I entered and found myself in a tiny room containing a desk, a table with blood-drawing equipment, a chair, and a person in a white coat. The first thought that crossed my mind was: Oh dear, I hope they work diligently here and I don't catch anything (Michael had the same concerns). Don't think we're arrogant, but the American healthcare system is really in such a bad state, you have no idea what I've experienced, but maybe more on that some other time.
Before the medical assistant started drawing blood, I signed a form stating that I understood it was for an HIV test. By the way, everyone signs this, not just Green Card applicants. In general, it's questionable to undergo such a potentially life-changing test just because it's required for the Green Card. Just imagine the scenario of testing positive for HIV. Of course, we also had to pay in advance. The whole thing cost $126.90 per person, with $77 of that amount being for the HIV test alone. The rest was for the test that detects syphilis and some other unclear items. In typical American fashion, there was a discount if we paid in cash or by check, a hefty 40%. Naturally, we did that. "HIV test on sale!"
A few days later, we set off again to see the doctor so he could tell us the results of our tuberculosis skin test. Naturally, we were also interested in the results of the blood test. When we arrived at the doctor's office, I asked the receptionist about the results. She rummaged through our file and cheerfully said that they hadn't received anything in writing yet, but she would call St. Luke's Hospital to inquire about the results. She then made a phone call. I turned a bit pale when she put the call on speakerphone, we were located at a waiting room filled with patients. However, she reconsidered and turned off the speaker when someone answered on the other end. Unfortunately, it took forever for the person to find the results, and I felt a chill run down my spine--you never know.
Finally, the receptionist ended the call but didn't bother to tell me the results. I shyly asked, and she shrugged nonchalantly, saying everything was okay. Unbelievable! The rest was quick and painless: the doctor read the TB test and filled out the form for the immigration office with shaky hands, with the receptionist occasionally correcting him. We still wonder today if everything was handled correctly.
We had already read one or two horror stories on the internet about how the immigration office, upon later reviewing the form, had vetoed such reports as being submitted incorrectly, which as a Green Card applicant this means you'd have to repeat the medical examination, but also that the process was further prolonged. What happens is that the results form is placed in an envelope, and the doctor seals the envelope with a stamp. Only the honorable immigration office is allowed to open the envelope later.
By the way, not every detection of an illness leads to the Green Card applicant being disqualified. If it is a curable disease, it must be proven that the person is healthy again, which, however, means: paperwork, paperwork, paperwork.
- More topics you might be interested in:
Addendum to the Soccer World Cup 
Personalized tickets
The Raging PERL MAN 
The Newsletter Top Product 
The CD of the Month 
The Osbournes on TV
Finally, the Green Card
Priority Date
Passport Photos
Affidavit of Support
Finger Prints 
Processing Fee and Passport Stamp
In the Same Line With Americans
All's Well That Ends Well
Addendum to the Soccer World Cup
Personalized tickets
The Raging PERL MAN
The Newsletter Top Product
The CD of the Month
The Osbournes on TV
Finally, the Green Card
Priority Date
Passport Photos
Affidavit of Support
Finger Prints
Processing Fee and Passport Stamp
In the Same Line With Americans
All's Well That Ends Well
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