Paracetamol, water and a flight to Moldova

Viktoriia Kantseva

There is one thing I still haven’t fully adjusted to in Ireland, and that is the medical system. Our first visit to the GP here was so quick that I left feeling like maybe I had missed the important part. In Ukraine, if you go to a doctor, you are usually examined properly, asked a lot of questions, sent for blood tests, maybe an ultrasound, and often given a list of things to do next. You leave feeling like at least something has started moving.

Here, it was more like: Paracetamol, water, fresh air. And that was all. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just very different. I remember walking out a bit confused because, in my head, I was still waiting for the “real” part of the appointment to begin, and it never really did.

At the same time, I can’t say the system doesn’t work at all. When things are actually urgent, they do respond. We once ended up in Emergency with a temperature of 40, and there they did proper checks, X-rays, examinations, and gave antibiotics. So yes, when the situation becomes serious enough, they act.

The problem is everything in between. That strange grey zone where you are not dying, but you are also clearly not fine. That is where I still struggle a bit with the Irish system. Because sometimes you don’t need an ambulance or an emergency department. Sometimes you just want to understand what is happening in your body. Maybe you feel constantly tired, maybe your energy is low, maybe your back hurts, maybe your hormones are playing up — you don’t necessarily need panic, you just need answers.

And this is where Ukraine completely spoiled me. Because in Ukraine, you can decide you want to check your health, go online, choose the tests you want, book it for the next morning, and by the evening you already have results sitting in your inbox. The next day, you can book a specialist, do an ultrasound, and within two or three days have a pretty clear understanding of what is going on. In Ireland, in those same few days, you may still be waiting to see your GP. Then waiting for a referral. Then waiting to maybe explain again why you would quite like to know whether your body is functioning normally.

And at some point, after enough waiting, you stop feeling like a patient and start feeling like a project manager. You compare clinics, check flights, look at blood test packages, and before you know it, you are sitting on a plane to Moldova. Which is more or less how my husband and I ended up there. Not because Moldova was sitting high on our dream travel list, but because at some point you wait, and wait, and wait a little more… and then suddenly you are in another country trying to sort out your thyroid and vitamin levels like this is a perfectly normal life choice.

And honestly, it was one of the most satisfying trips I’ve had in a long time. In just three days, I had 36 blood tests done, a thyroid ultrasound, an abdominal ultrasound, and a proper overall check-up. My husband sorted out his teeth. Things happened quickly, clearly, and without needing to convince anyone that 'yes, I really would like to know what is going on inside my own body'. That part alone felt almost luxurious. Not glamorous, exactly.

Nobody flies to Moldova and thinks, This is the life. But deeply satisfying? Absolutely. Because more than anything, what I felt was relief. Not because something was magically fixed in three days, but because I finally had information. I knew what was fine, what needed attention, and what had probably been quietly draining my energy for a while. And I realised how much peace there is in simply knowing. That feeling of: Okay. This is what’s happening. Now I can deal with it.

Maybe that is the part I miss most in the Irish system — not necessarily speed for the sake of speed, but access to clarity. Because not every health concern is dramatic, but that doesn’t make it unimportant. And I think a lot of immigrants quietly do the same thing in one form or another. You stop trying to do everything “the proper way” and start doing what is actually available, realistic and effective.

Ireland has given us safety, kindness, calm, and a life that feels much more stable than the one we had before, and I will always be deeply grateful for that. But in the area of medicine, I am still adjusting. And apparently, this is also part of emigrant life now: saying, “We flew to Moldova for blood tests,” with a completely straight face.