Indonesians are pretty much resigned to the type of medical care they get – particularly if they cant afford to dash off to Singapore or Perth when they twist their ankle. The average citizen here has probably become used to the puskesmas or posyandu, both admirable public health institutions for a developing nation, but sadly lacking in true medical expertise.

She wasn’t feeling well and she couldn’t pee freely. Forty-three, blond, British and cheerful, this plump Caucasian lady aspired to become Indonesia’s first bule singer of dangdut popular songs. But first she had to see about the burning sensation when she went to urinate.

This nice plump lady and her businessman husband had no prejudice whatsoever against Indonesian medical practice… in spite of the cornucopia of horror stories they had heard, since arriving to work in Jakarta.

Still, they figured that they might as well get the best-quality medical care available locally, so they motored around to the great gleaming hospital in South Jakarta (Which Shall Remain Unnamed, like all the guilty parties in this sad narrative) – the one not far from the International School.

“I’m having trouble peeing.”

“Yes, we’ll do tests… oh this is serious. Very, very serious. You have a severe emergency indeed. We will have to operate on your urinary system immediately, right now, give you a urostomy, so hurry into the Operating Room! Quickly! Nurse!!”

The smooth-talking doctor guides her expertly by the elbow, both the plump Brits a bit shocked and confused by this sudden development. The husband later remembered that a little light bulb went on in his head: “We are being stampeded”.