Report of 5 Dec '07
Hello from the B -
It is rather gloomy here as one of our senior trustees, Mrs. Vellodi, has passed away. She and her husband have been steadfast in their support of Vandana and Vaishnavi's grand venture, and it is indeed wonderful to have older folks share their wisdom and experience with young ones in any venture. The airconditioner in the Vellodis' bedroom had caught fire and they had escaped with their lives, but were hospitalised for smoke inhalation. They were then shifted to Vandana and Vaishnavi's house, and were doing well, then both were re-admitted. Mrs. Vellodi contracted pneumonia and a variety of other illnesses, and died early this morning. There were tough decisions to be made on her care, with the lone surviving child in the U.K. and wanting to wait for his father to recover consciousness before taking said decision.
Vaishnavi had fallen ill 2 days ago, and when I checked on her, she stated that it was likely stress. We discussed the Vellodis and I mentioned she was probably very affected as she is close to them, and I am not as much. However, the passing has put heaviness on my heart also.
The B has a partner NGO (Non-government organisation) named Sahayam, which houses male patients. We suppport them as we can. Last week, our team picked up a male patient, took him to Sahayam and he returned the following day. He seemed agitated and violent, and our astute stores-supervisor, Balan, offered him a beedi (a native cigarette) and a cup of tea, and he calmed down. When one of the male staff patted him on the shoulder, he winced. They took off his shirt to see, and the poor man had been beaten so badly that there was discoloration on the left upper arm and on his back. The staff was distraught, and I went to check on the patient. He had indeed been thrashed, and I was concerned about a bone being broken (our female patients have very brittle bones - "osteoporotic" - and who knows about the men), so sent him for further eval to the hospital. He returned with a verdict of no fractures, but the incident was alarming - especially because the B has a firm policy of not beating patients and there's our partner NGO beating them. The social worker in charge of patient rescue ("Helpline" - which all citizens can call if they spot a person on the street who appears mentally ill) has set up a meeting with the director of Sahayam, and we hope for the best.
Tutoring is going on, with lots of giggles as the kids attempt to do math. I was alone last week as both our sons had other commitments: Naren has "special class," an extra class which runs late and Navin had to be tutored himself as he has mightily tanked the last set of exams. It was a challenge to individually tutor the kids, and I reiterate my thought that teachers ought to get their salaries doubled annually.
With yet another tantrum from Naren recently, and Navin's abysmal grades, I lost it last week. I mentioned how phenomenal the B's patients are, having survived beatings, rape, scrounging in the street sand for food and being "discarded" by their own families, and how they manage to find the time for a smile and a kind word for me. My sons, sitting w/ their own family, a roof over their heads and food that they *like* to eat in front of them, not being thrashed or verbally harassed in any way, were being thunderously disrespectful and I'd had it. (One day, when Navin had a stomach upset, Scott asked if there was yogurt in the fridge and all 3 waited for my answer, as though I were either the fridge, or the only person who could get up and look. I have now taken to not replying such questions, period.) I ended up in tears, inadvertently. The treatment at home has since improved.
Take good care of yourselves with, at the very least, a 30-minute walk per day.
Unw -
R
It is rather gloomy here as one of our senior trustees, Mrs. Vellodi, has passed away. She and her husband have been steadfast in their support of Vandana and Vaishnavi's grand venture, and it is indeed wonderful to have older folks share their wisdom and experience with young ones in any venture. The airconditioner in the Vellodis' bedroom had caught fire and they had escaped with their lives, but were hospitalised for smoke inhalation. They were then shifted to Vandana and Vaishnavi's house, and were doing well, then both were re-admitted. Mrs. Vellodi contracted pneumonia and a variety of other illnesses, and died early this morning. There were tough decisions to be made on her care, with the lone surviving child in the U.K. and wanting to wait for his father to recover consciousness before taking said decision.
Vaishnavi had fallen ill 2 days ago, and when I checked on her, she stated that it was likely stress. We discussed the Vellodis and I mentioned she was probably very affected as she is close to them, and I am not as much. However, the passing has put heaviness on my heart also.
The B has a partner NGO (Non-government organisation) named Sahayam, which houses male patients. We suppport them as we can. Last week, our team picked up a male patient, took him to Sahayam and he returned the following day. He seemed agitated and violent, and our astute stores-supervisor, Balan, offered him a beedi (a native cigarette) and a cup of tea, and he calmed down. When one of the male staff patted him on the shoulder, he winced. They took off his shirt to see, and the poor man had been beaten so badly that there was discoloration on the left upper arm and on his back. The staff was distraught, and I went to check on the patient. He had indeed been thrashed, and I was concerned about a bone being broken (our female patients have very brittle bones - "osteoporotic" - and who knows about the men), so sent him for further eval to the hospital. He returned with a verdict of no fractures, but the incident was alarming - especially because the B has a firm policy of not beating patients and there's our partner NGO beating them. The social worker in charge of patient rescue ("Helpline" - which all citizens can call if they spot a person on the street who appears mentally ill) has set up a meeting with the director of Sahayam, and we hope for the best.
Tutoring is going on, with lots of giggles as the kids attempt to do math. I was alone last week as both our sons had other commitments: Naren has "special class," an extra class which runs late and Navin had to be tutored himself as he has mightily tanked the last set of exams. It was a challenge to individually tutor the kids, and I reiterate my thought that teachers ought to get their salaries doubled annually.
With yet another tantrum from Naren recently, and Navin's abysmal grades, I lost it last week. I mentioned how phenomenal the B's patients are, having survived beatings, rape, scrounging in the street sand for food and being "discarded" by their own families, and how they manage to find the time for a smile and a kind word for me. My sons, sitting w/ their own family, a roof over their heads and food that they *like* to eat in front of them, not being thrashed or verbally harassed in any way, were being thunderously disrespectful and I'd had it. (One day, when Navin had a stomach upset, Scott asked if there was yogurt in the fridge and all 3 waited for my answer, as though I were either the fridge, or the only person who could get up and look. I have now taken to not replying such questions, period.) I ended up in tears, inadvertently. The treatment at home has since improved.
Take good care of yourselves with, at the very least, a 30-minute walk per day.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
8:39 PM
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