Report of 10 Sept '06
Yoosh - what a dreadful weekend -
I am in a very foul mood, getting less foul as I write. Both my sons have done very poorly in their exams. The testing methods in India are very rigorous, w/ the tests emphasising both understanding and memorisation, and the boys have flailed. They are required to write in some detail ("What would happen if an airplane is not pressurised?"), and being butt lazy, have taken the shortest possible route earning, naturally, the least possible marks. Perhaps they would thrive in the multiple choice environment, but they will be here for the foreseeable future - in the very stern Indian academic environment.
To a person, the teachers have said things to me like, "Well, now that you're back, we can get the boys in gear." This doesn't warm the cockles of my heart, exactly, because I feel that the boys should have held their own regardless of which parent had primary charge of them, and Scott does a fine job. However, this tanking of grades and the subsequent disciplining are an annual event, and will likely continue, because I do plan to head to the U.S. annually to work, update my knowledge, earn some bucks. I'm a mite clueless as to why the boys take great delight in irritating the wits out of their father, but perhaps it's a teen male thing.
Scott was to have mailed my car title to me in Indy, and passing it on to a friend was one of my pending chores. Scott apparently did mail it, choosing the cheaper option over couriering it, and it is eminently lost - likely in the post office's Bermuda triangle heap of photographs, thank-you cards, college acceptance letters.
We hosted one of Naren's friends prior to his joining his parents for a holiday, and this poor child was frightfully high maintenance: Game Cube (kindly given to the boys by Chris Taber), movies, a toothbrush, extra clothes, meat at every meal (which we *never* have). The last 3 were pretty easy to handle, but I cannot abide the sight of healthy teenagers sitting in front of a video game when there are plenty of other things to do - chess, ping pong (downstairs in our complex's rec room), read.
My fridge and microwave are not working. These appliances are from the U.S. and I am getting a bit tired of them wilting under the different electrical system here. Sigh. I have been known to hug our fridge, using it for everything from leftovers to mango juice popsicles and I miss it very much. We are going to purchase Indian appliances next week, and are assured that many of them have quality comparable to what we're used to. I loved efficient life in the U.S. - fridge worked, microwave warmed, electricity stayed on, the washing machine cleaned, faucet had water I could drink.
The Banyan is fine, and is attracting more and more physicians wanting to donate their services. It feels weird to be officially on the rolls, but the buck stops w/ me. I can no longer complain about the staff missing important test results, etc., but must do something to ensure that it does not happen. We had a patient brought in to us w/ bad burns on her back. (I think I've mentioned before that our patients are subject to a lot of violence pre-Banyan, solely brought on by the ignorance of their mental illness.) She was emaciated and reeking, the wound on her back oozing pus and w/ a lot of black debris on it. I was very sorry to see this, and not knowing how to manage a burn, called my plastic surgeon father right away. (Now, in case anyone gets mighty impressed about my father's profession, let me assure you he has also elected not to make mongo bucks; what is impressive is his track record of successes w/ burns, cleft lip and palate, accident injuries - not his bank balance.) So my father told me what to do: wash off the wound w/ saline, peel off the dead skin stuck to the wound, sedate the patient as this would be painful, apply an antiseptic ointment, leave the wound open, see to the patient's nutritional status. The nurse did the cleaning ("debriding") very well. The pt stated that she had attempted suicide and I discussed this w/ my father: it struck me that a person attempting suicide would light the first accessible body part, not the back. He agreed. It also seemed like someone had held the pt's head down, poured the kerosene on her back and lit it. This was staggeringly sad to me. The pt's brother and sister-in-law were due in to the B for a counselling session, and resultant police work. Through all of this, though, the pt (whose appetite is mercifully robust) stated that she wanted to return to her bro and s-i-l.
It strikes me as I write that there will always be people who are offended by what I write, given recent events. I am eternally grateful to my friend Carol, my best friend from 10 yo days (obviously, we have stayed friends for a reason), who stated, "Hey, even Gandhi was assassinated." One cannot keep everyone happy and I am not about to try. I imagine that my funding quests will continue to draw ire, or resentment, or apathy. People are going to be upset by what I do, and some are going to be upset by what I don't do. It is expected (especially by me) that my work will go on, and go on it will.
"Sign outside the Red Horse Saloon: Cheap T-Bone Steaks, 99 cents ... w/ meat, $10.99."
Unw -
Renu
I am in a very foul mood, getting less foul as I write. Both my sons have done very poorly in their exams. The testing methods in India are very rigorous, w/ the tests emphasising both understanding and memorisation, and the boys have flailed. They are required to write in some detail ("What would happen if an airplane is not pressurised?"), and being butt lazy, have taken the shortest possible route earning, naturally, the least possible marks. Perhaps they would thrive in the multiple choice environment, but they will be here for the foreseeable future - in the very stern Indian academic environment.
To a person, the teachers have said things to me like, "Well, now that you're back, we can get the boys in gear." This doesn't warm the cockles of my heart, exactly, because I feel that the boys should have held their own regardless of which parent had primary charge of them, and Scott does a fine job. However, this tanking of grades and the subsequent disciplining are an annual event, and will likely continue, because I do plan to head to the U.S. annually to work, update my knowledge, earn some bucks. I'm a mite clueless as to why the boys take great delight in irritating the wits out of their father, but perhaps it's a teen male thing.
Scott was to have mailed my car title to me in Indy, and passing it on to a friend was one of my pending chores. Scott apparently did mail it, choosing the cheaper option over couriering it, and it is eminently lost - likely in the post office's Bermuda triangle heap of photographs, thank-you cards, college acceptance letters.
We hosted one of Naren's friends prior to his joining his parents for a holiday, and this poor child was frightfully high maintenance: Game Cube (kindly given to the boys by Chris Taber), movies, a toothbrush, extra clothes, meat at every meal (which we *never* have). The last 3 were pretty easy to handle, but I cannot abide the sight of healthy teenagers sitting in front of a video game when there are plenty of other things to do - chess, ping pong (downstairs in our complex's rec room), read.
My fridge and microwave are not working. These appliances are from the U.S. and I am getting a bit tired of them wilting under the different electrical system here. Sigh. I have been known to hug our fridge, using it for everything from leftovers to mango juice popsicles and I miss it very much. We are going to purchase Indian appliances next week, and are assured that many of them have quality comparable to what we're used to. I loved efficient life in the U.S. - fridge worked, microwave warmed, electricity stayed on, the washing machine cleaned, faucet had water I could drink.
The Banyan is fine, and is attracting more and more physicians wanting to donate their services. It feels weird to be officially on the rolls, but the buck stops w/ me. I can no longer complain about the staff missing important test results, etc., but must do something to ensure that it does not happen. We had a patient brought in to us w/ bad burns on her back. (I think I've mentioned before that our patients are subject to a lot of violence pre-Banyan, solely brought on by the ignorance of their mental illness.) She was emaciated and reeking, the wound on her back oozing pus and w/ a lot of black debris on it. I was very sorry to see this, and not knowing how to manage a burn, called my plastic surgeon father right away. (Now, in case anyone gets mighty impressed about my father's profession, let me assure you he has also elected not to make mongo bucks; what is impressive is his track record of successes w/ burns, cleft lip and palate, accident injuries - not his bank balance.) So my father told me what to do: wash off the wound w/ saline, peel off the dead skin stuck to the wound, sedate the patient as this would be painful, apply an antiseptic ointment, leave the wound open, see to the patient's nutritional status. The nurse did the cleaning ("debriding") very well. The pt stated that she had attempted suicide and I discussed this w/ my father: it struck me that a person attempting suicide would light the first accessible body part, not the back. He agreed. It also seemed like someone had held the pt's head down, poured the kerosene on her back and lit it. This was staggeringly sad to me. The pt's brother and sister-in-law were due in to the B for a counselling session, and resultant police work. Through all of this, though, the pt (whose appetite is mercifully robust) stated that she wanted to return to her bro and s-i-l.
It strikes me as I write that there will always be people who are offended by what I write, given recent events. I am eternally grateful to my friend Carol, my best friend from 10 yo days (obviously, we have stayed friends for a reason), who stated, "Hey, even Gandhi was assassinated." One cannot keep everyone happy and I am not about to try. I imagine that my funding quests will continue to draw ire, or resentment, or apathy. People are going to be upset by what I do, and some are going to be upset by what I don't do. It is expected (especially by me) that my work will go on, and go on it will.
"Sign outside the Red Horse Saloon: Cheap T-Bone Steaks, 99 cents ... w/ meat, $10.99."
Unw -
Renu
posted by Renu Weiss at
11:48 PM
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