Report of 23 Nov '09
Hello from the Banyan -
The airconditioner is blasting and I should not complain - at least we can afford it, sort of. Actually, it's mainly on to protect our computers, as the intense heat and humidity of Chennai can cause many things to fold: Tupperware lids, Rubbermaid containers have not stood a chance here. Even the legendary, lifetime guarantee Tupperware.
Fotb.usa@gmail.com - if you want info on donating, and availing the tax exemption for it.
Ms. SA, the patient with the stroke, apparently opened her mouth last week when the health care worker (hcw) asked her. All are beside themselves with joy. I have not seen this miracle myself, but will ask for your prayers to aid in the recovery. Our triumphs are small, but they can be mighty. A colleague mentioned the hcw's little jig when the mouth-opening first happened. I have requested that someone read to Ms. SA on a regular basis, perhaps we can capitalise on her improving cognition.
Ms. S is a patient with HIV, and she speaks a language none of us knows. She developed arm swelling last week and was taken to the ER at the magnificent Sundaram Medical Foundation hospital, which treats our patients for free and does a very good job. The ER doc saw the swelling, apparently some discoloration (I had not seen the patient at all), pronounced it a skin problem and referred Ms. S to the skin clinic. Our very sharp nurse, Leela, continued to go after the problem and ordered an xray on her own; lo and behold, a fracture - which has to be repaired by surgery. I sent a note to one of my colleagues at SMF, asking for the thought process of the evaluating doctor, and got a reply within hours, promising more info. SMF treats our (impoverished, destitute) patients ably and like all other patients, and my intent was not to find fault but to help the evaluating doc realise that a swollen limb could benefit from an xray. SMF takes all such feedback well; some hospitals - and doctors - could get completely irate at the questioning.
A few days ago, it continued to pour buckets and as I drove home in the rain, an old man asked for a lift. I don't ever stop, but it was wet and miserable, and I thought I could take the old man on if something other than a usual car ride happened. The man got in, told me his health woes quickly, and I asked him to go to SMF, then he mentioned his financial woes even quicker and fairly brazenly asked for money. I thought of my purse on the back floor, but have long learned from my husband not to cough up bucks for every sob story, so my charity ended with the lift.
I caught a virus a few days ago, and it was particularly virulent. My throat worsened exponentially overnight, and I developed a fever. My suspicion was very high for swine flu, but treatment for that is a song-and-dance here: go to a special facility with about 1000 others, get tested and then get Tamiflu if the test is positive. So I gave up that quest, gargled madly with salt water, poured all manner of hot beverages down my throat, and felt better. The men were good during this time, and attended to my share of household duties, and made soup and tea, and listened to me whine non-stop.
One of my able colleagues, Swapna, sent our cooks for retraining to a wonderful local restaurant. They have returned with deft new touches to their recipes, and all are benefitting. I have thanked Swapna profusely for this brilliant idea.
My sister and brother-in-law came into town yesterday and it was good to see them. They were flat (apartment)-hunting for my nephew, a lawyer. Real estate in Chennai is very expensive, and that is dispiriting; I have seen a couple of apartments that I really like, and we simply cannot afford them. Why? - my own darn fault. Were I raking in the bucks in private practice, I could have afforded my dream flat with ease. And right along with that thought, my sons hug and kiss us as they say goodbye, instead of saying "Ewwwww"; one son says a bunch of his friends and he want to help at an underprivileged event and could I get more info on it; the other son speaks candidly of temptations he's tried with his friends and acquaintances; my husband entertains his in-laws as lovingly as if they were his own siblings; we talk on the phone with my parents as we plan for Christmas; we play games on Game Night, eat junk and laugh out loud at some ridiculous turn of events; all 3 men and I bring up issues of our respective days, we talk and laugh; I get a smile from a patient with no family and no money after she overcomes a disease. Do I have riches - not the flat kind, maybe, but certainly, plenty, plenty of others.
Unw -
R
The airconditioner is blasting and I should not complain - at least we can afford it, sort of. Actually, it's mainly on to protect our computers, as the intense heat and humidity of Chennai can cause many things to fold: Tupperware lids, Rubbermaid containers have not stood a chance here. Even the legendary, lifetime guarantee Tupperware.
Fotb.usa@gmail.com - if you want info on donating, and availing the tax exemption for it.
Ms. SA, the patient with the stroke, apparently opened her mouth last week when the health care worker (hcw) asked her. All are beside themselves with joy. I have not seen this miracle myself, but will ask for your prayers to aid in the recovery. Our triumphs are small, but they can be mighty. A colleague mentioned the hcw's little jig when the mouth-opening first happened. I have requested that someone read to Ms. SA on a regular basis, perhaps we can capitalise on her improving cognition.
Ms. S is a patient with HIV, and she speaks a language none of us knows. She developed arm swelling last week and was taken to the ER at the magnificent Sundaram Medical Foundation hospital, which treats our patients for free and does a very good job. The ER doc saw the swelling, apparently some discoloration (I had not seen the patient at all), pronounced it a skin problem and referred Ms. S to the skin clinic. Our very sharp nurse, Leela, continued to go after the problem and ordered an xray on her own; lo and behold, a fracture - which has to be repaired by surgery. I sent a note to one of my colleagues at SMF, asking for the thought process of the evaluating doctor, and got a reply within hours, promising more info. SMF treats our (impoverished, destitute) patients ably and like all other patients, and my intent was not to find fault but to help the evaluating doc realise that a swollen limb could benefit from an xray. SMF takes all such feedback well; some hospitals - and doctors - could get completely irate at the questioning.
A few days ago, it continued to pour buckets and as I drove home in the rain, an old man asked for a lift. I don't ever stop, but it was wet and miserable, and I thought I could take the old man on if something other than a usual car ride happened. The man got in, told me his health woes quickly, and I asked him to go to SMF, then he mentioned his financial woes even quicker and fairly brazenly asked for money. I thought of my purse on the back floor, but have long learned from my husband not to cough up bucks for every sob story, so my charity ended with the lift.
I caught a virus a few days ago, and it was particularly virulent. My throat worsened exponentially overnight, and I developed a fever. My suspicion was very high for swine flu, but treatment for that is a song-and-dance here: go to a special facility with about 1000 others, get tested and then get Tamiflu if the test is positive. So I gave up that quest, gargled madly with salt water, poured all manner of hot beverages down my throat, and felt better. The men were good during this time, and attended to my share of household duties, and made soup and tea, and listened to me whine non-stop.
One of my able colleagues, Swapna, sent our cooks for retraining to a wonderful local restaurant. They have returned with deft new touches to their recipes, and all are benefitting. I have thanked Swapna profusely for this brilliant idea.
My sister and brother-in-law came into town yesterday and it was good to see them. They were flat (apartment)-hunting for my nephew, a lawyer. Real estate in Chennai is very expensive, and that is dispiriting; I have seen a couple of apartments that I really like, and we simply cannot afford them. Why? - my own darn fault. Were I raking in the bucks in private practice, I could have afforded my dream flat with ease. And right along with that thought, my sons hug and kiss us as they say goodbye, instead of saying "Ewwwww"; one son says a bunch of his friends and he want to help at an underprivileged event and could I get more info on it; the other son speaks candidly of temptations he's tried with his friends and acquaintances; my husband entertains his in-laws as lovingly as if they were his own siblings; we talk on the phone with my parents as we plan for Christmas; we play games on Game Night, eat junk and laugh out loud at some ridiculous turn of events; all 3 men and I bring up issues of our respective days, we talk and laugh; I get a smile from a patient with no family and no money after she overcomes a disease. Do I have riches - not the flat kind, maybe, but certainly, plenty, plenty of others.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
9:44 PM
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