Report of 20 Nov '12
Hello from Chennai!
I've had a good few days and hope the same with you.
The Banyan has been fine and we are trying to improve our hygiene so that the rat-borne disease, leptospirosis, can be kept at bay. The health care workers have been magnificent in understanding the vitality of cleanliness and the place has been sparkling. I've had to curb food brought in from outside, as well as temporarily shut down our pettikadai (snack shop) and today, I heard about it from the resident who runs the shop. She would like her salary, which can only be given if she works at the shop, and she was promised (not by me) that the shop would open today, so she was irate when she found out that it would not open - by my decree. She narrated in articulate terms her ire, and raised her voice, and it was all good; well-thought-out fury. I like it. As I told senior personnel, to be senior means to take decisions that would be unpopular and this snack shop shutting is one of them.
Kovalam is busy. Around 70 patients this week, to be seen in 7 or 8 hours. So that amounts to about 6 minutes per patient and I have to fly along. One of the patients is the grandmother of one of our colleagues, Mr. M, and I was delighted that she came to see me; I treated her aches and pains, and found that she had not eaten. She raised her grandson after his father, her son, abandoned the family ("Please don't tell anyone," she implored, not wanting the shame) and the grandson adores her. He would provide her meals, but she does not want to inconvenience anyone. I'd darted across to the little shop across the road (both the owners - a couple - are my patients) and bought some fried peas as peanuts were unavailable; I gave some of it to this lady and she said, "To eat?" I said, "Yes, please," and we shared a companionable moment. After getting her meds, she came back in my room and said, "Shall I bring you some fish next time?" I said, "Please don't spend a ton of money," and she said, "You can pay me back," which I will gladly do, as I love fish and shrimp.
One of the patients said to me, "You treat those of us who have nothing." I said, "You get ill, too, do you not, it's not just those with loaded wallets," and she smiled.
I am not genial with those who do not get blood tests as ordered, and I shouted at a couple of patients, stating very clearly that I would not see them next week if the tests were not done. I *have* to know what state their diabetes is in, to adjust their meds or not, and I do not appreciate being ignorant of that info. Doctors in India routinely shout at their patients; while I was horrified at first, I find that it effectively communicates the urgency of what I want. And I do think patients can spend a little bit to get this information, while the rest of the treatment and all the meds are free.
Said colleague above, with the grandmother, has opened a surfing school and we went for the inauguration. It was nice, and there is international collaboration, with some Australians having donated surfboards, etc. Mr. M was profiled in the newspaper, in a nice article.
Scott and I went to Coorg for a cousin's daughter's wedding and it was fun. It is nice to hang with young people, and listen to them be oh-so-congenial. There were events the night before, as well, with drinking and dancing, and I danced like a wild woman; truly, the music does course through my blood vessels. We visited some relatives in Coorg, saw cousins' kids, etc. We stopped in Mysore on our return and saw my mother's older sister, who has dementia; she used to be a hospital administrator who resigned in protest after a politican dipped into the hospital's poor fund. She is single and was a fiery one in her time; seeing her is still a joy. We also visited a cousin's special needs child and that was grand fun; I adore this young man and was happy to see that he was recovering nicely from an attack of tuberculosis.
Over the weekend, there was a medical conference run by an eminent hospital here; Sundaram Medical Foundation (SMF) treats our patients for free and run an excellent conference annually. I love to attend, and am always greeted warmly and enthusiastically by the organisers, many of whom trained overseas. There was a lot of learning involved and that was great, also. We attended a concert by a singer from Madurai and the band did covers, which I love - my favorite kind of live music. They were so good that at their encore, "I saw her standing there," I had to get up and dance. Had to.
Diwali, our festival of lights, was last week and we celebrated it quietly as we were leaving for Coorg that night. We will Skype with our younger son - spending Thanksgiving holidays working at school as he needs the money - this weekend and might catch lunch with our older son, if his schedule permits. We are fortunate in our opinionated (whom did they get that from?) sons and being able to see them and other family members is a blessing I will likely not take for granted.
To those of you who celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving. To the others, Happy Week.
Unw -
R
I've had a good few days and hope the same with you.
The Banyan has been fine and we are trying to improve our hygiene so that the rat-borne disease, leptospirosis, can be kept at bay. The health care workers have been magnificent in understanding the vitality of cleanliness and the place has been sparkling. I've had to curb food brought in from outside, as well as temporarily shut down our pettikadai (snack shop) and today, I heard about it from the resident who runs the shop. She would like her salary, which can only be given if she works at the shop, and she was promised (not by me) that the shop would open today, so she was irate when she found out that it would not open - by my decree. She narrated in articulate terms her ire, and raised her voice, and it was all good; well-thought-out fury. I like it. As I told senior personnel, to be senior means to take decisions that would be unpopular and this snack shop shutting is one of them.
Kovalam is busy. Around 70 patients this week, to be seen in 7 or 8 hours. So that amounts to about 6 minutes per patient and I have to fly along. One of the patients is the grandmother of one of our colleagues, Mr. M, and I was delighted that she came to see me; I treated her aches and pains, and found that she had not eaten. She raised her grandson after his father, her son, abandoned the family ("Please don't tell anyone," she implored, not wanting the shame) and the grandson adores her. He would provide her meals, but she does not want to inconvenience anyone. I'd darted across to the little shop across the road (both the owners - a couple - are my patients) and bought some fried peas as peanuts were unavailable; I gave some of it to this lady and she said, "To eat?" I said, "Yes, please," and we shared a companionable moment. After getting her meds, she came back in my room and said, "Shall I bring you some fish next time?" I said, "Please don't spend a ton of money," and she said, "You can pay me back," which I will gladly do, as I love fish and shrimp.
One of the patients said to me, "You treat those of us who have nothing." I said, "You get ill, too, do you not, it's not just those with loaded wallets," and she smiled.
I am not genial with those who do not get blood tests as ordered, and I shouted at a couple of patients, stating very clearly that I would not see them next week if the tests were not done. I *have* to know what state their diabetes is in, to adjust their meds or not, and I do not appreciate being ignorant of that info. Doctors in India routinely shout at their patients; while I was horrified at first, I find that it effectively communicates the urgency of what I want. And I do think patients can spend a little bit to get this information, while the rest of the treatment and all the meds are free.
Said colleague above, with the grandmother, has opened a surfing school and we went for the inauguration. It was nice, and there is international collaboration, with some Australians having donated surfboards, etc. Mr. M was profiled in the newspaper, in a nice article.
Scott and I went to Coorg for a cousin's daughter's wedding and it was fun. It is nice to hang with young people, and listen to them be oh-so-congenial. There were events the night before, as well, with drinking and dancing, and I danced like a wild woman; truly, the music does course through my blood vessels. We visited some relatives in Coorg, saw cousins' kids, etc. We stopped in Mysore on our return and saw my mother's older sister, who has dementia; she used to be a hospital administrator who resigned in protest after a politican dipped into the hospital's poor fund. She is single and was a fiery one in her time; seeing her is still a joy. We also visited a cousin's special needs child and that was grand fun; I adore this young man and was happy to see that he was recovering nicely from an attack of tuberculosis.
Over the weekend, there was a medical conference run by an eminent hospital here; Sundaram Medical Foundation (SMF) treats our patients for free and run an excellent conference annually. I love to attend, and am always greeted warmly and enthusiastically by the organisers, many of whom trained overseas. There was a lot of learning involved and that was great, also. We attended a concert by a singer from Madurai and the band did covers, which I love - my favorite kind of live music. They were so good that at their encore, "I saw her standing there," I had to get up and dance. Had to.
Diwali, our festival of lights, was last week and we celebrated it quietly as we were leaving for Coorg that night. We will Skype with our younger son - spending Thanksgiving holidays working at school as he needs the money - this weekend and might catch lunch with our older son, if his schedule permits. We are fortunate in our opinionated (whom did they get that from?) sons and being able to see them and other family members is a blessing I will likely not take for granted.
To those of you who celebrate it, Happy Thanksgiving. To the others, Happy Week.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
6:01 AM
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