The examination

I asked to borrow this book from my coworker on my first day in the office. I figured I had better learn what I was talking about so as to avoid situations where I look like an idiot. Please note that this book is a bit outdated, and we are now called the Kingdom of Bahrain, and not the State.
There are some pretty interesting labor laws here, but the one that I found strangest (probably because you would be sued immediately if you tried this in the US) was the mandatory health examination before you can be legally employed. On my third day in the office, our government affairs coordinator informed me that I would need to see a doctor before he could apply for my CPR card (Central Population Registry--kind of like a Social Security card) and my Bahrain residency. So the next morning the driver picked me up at 8am and off we went to the government health facility. I thought it was going to be like my previous forays into Socialist healthcare (when I was dying in Spain and when I was crippled in Sweden), but what I was not expecting was the large room filled with HUNDREDS of men and lots of lines that snaked around and through each other. The driver told me to wait there while he went to check on something. I didn't really want to wait there by myself, since by this point I was getting lots of stares (I had been there for 20 minutes before I saw another woman), but I was also fascinated by all of the people. I imagine that this is much what Ellis Island was like (except for the fact that there were probably Irish, Italians, and Germans instead of Bangladeshis, Indians and Filipinos). Most of them have probably come here to be construction workers and day laborers, and work for very low wages, and in many cases in unsafe conditions, trying to make a better life for themselves and the families that they left behind. But before they can get to work, they come here and wait in lines all day. And I cut. That's right, apparently Citi has contacts in the health department, and they sent me right to the front. I was pretty uncomfortable about that, but nobody seemed to care, and I was still feeling too unsure of the situation to argue with the driver, who was now shepherding me around. First I went to a room where they took my picture, then I went to another room and had a chest x-ray (to make sure I was TB free), then I went to another room where I had my blood pressure taken and an eye test, and then I went upstairs to another room where a doctor listened to my heart, and then I was finished. I must have had the short version of the exam, because there were all sorts of doors I didn't go into (like the dental room, and the bloodwork room, etc.). Apparently, they thought that I was healthy enough to work here, because my residency was issued the next day.