Report of 4 Mar 2014
Good morning from Chennai!
Hope all are well. We are fine and have experienced the joys of public transport in the city: our car has been in the repair shop. I'd oriiginally thought our new flat was in the boonies, but the boonies are also well-connected. We have joyously taken the bus and autorickshaws everywhere. In peak hours, driving in Chennai is a challenge and I have loved not having to.
Work has been wonderful. Mind-blowingly busy in Kovalam. Yesterday saw an unceasing flow of patients; many - especially older patients - come to socialise at the B, as interaction is minimal in their homes. Child-in-law tension, etc. One of the much older patients asked us (in a chat a couple of weeks ago) if we had eaten; she then hastened home to bring us 2 chappatis (similar to wheat tortillas) and a tasty chutney. I had an upset stomach that day and was not eating much, but absolutely could not say no to this expression of unbridled affection. So, Keerthana, our young assistant, and I ate; we asked the patient to join us and she had a teeny piece. It was a very companionable moment. Those who have little tend to share.
Yesterday, an older patient - new to us - came in having clonged her head on something. The bleeding did not stop, Keerthana checked her blood pressure and saw it was over 200/120. Yikes. This lady likely had undiagnosed high blood pressure, or had given up her meds. We told the family she needed to be seen at the hospital, and the family said - rather blithely - "Just give her a few meds for her BP, and we'll take her home." My sons know this expression of mine well: my eyes harden, the tone of voice steels and my temper comes flying to the fore. I said again that the lady needed to be seen in the Emergency Room and asked that the relatives not mess around. Our able community workers came in to the room to try and make the family understand.
Older patients are often treated like chattel. Bugs me. What happened to our famed respect for the elders?
We saw a couple of movies and unexpectedly enjoyed "Dallas Buyers Club." Aids is a sexy topic and I had thought Mr. McConaughey would win his Oscar. The best scene for me in the film was when the 2 gentlemen - a gay couple, I think - offered MM the use of the house and offered to help. So lovely, so powerfully emblematic of the U.S. mindset. I get few such offers here, when folks find out what we do. Life in India is so challenging, and poverty so omnipresent, that the mindset gets overwhelmed by other things.
I hear from our sons and they are well. It is wonderful to be in touch with family. I am especially happy that our sons make us proud daily - with their choices, their intellect, their treatment of others.
Unw -
R
Hope all are well. We are fine and have experienced the joys of public transport in the city: our car has been in the repair shop. I'd oriiginally thought our new flat was in the boonies, but the boonies are also well-connected. We have joyously taken the bus and autorickshaws everywhere. In peak hours, driving in Chennai is a challenge and I have loved not having to.
Work has been wonderful. Mind-blowingly busy in Kovalam. Yesterday saw an unceasing flow of patients; many - especially older patients - come to socialise at the B, as interaction is minimal in their homes. Child-in-law tension, etc. One of the much older patients asked us (in a chat a couple of weeks ago) if we had eaten; she then hastened home to bring us 2 chappatis (similar to wheat tortillas) and a tasty chutney. I had an upset stomach that day and was not eating much, but absolutely could not say no to this expression of unbridled affection. So, Keerthana, our young assistant, and I ate; we asked the patient to join us and she had a teeny piece. It was a very companionable moment. Those who have little tend to share.
Yesterday, an older patient - new to us - came in having clonged her head on something. The bleeding did not stop, Keerthana checked her blood pressure and saw it was over 200/120. Yikes. This lady likely had undiagnosed high blood pressure, or had given up her meds. We told the family she needed to be seen at the hospital, and the family said - rather blithely - "Just give her a few meds for her BP, and we'll take her home." My sons know this expression of mine well: my eyes harden, the tone of voice steels and my temper comes flying to the fore. I said again that the lady needed to be seen in the Emergency Room and asked that the relatives not mess around. Our able community workers came in to the room to try and make the family understand.
Older patients are often treated like chattel. Bugs me. What happened to our famed respect for the elders?
We saw a couple of movies and unexpectedly enjoyed "Dallas Buyers Club." Aids is a sexy topic and I had thought Mr. McConaughey would win his Oscar. The best scene for me in the film was when the 2 gentlemen - a gay couple, I think - offered MM the use of the house and offered to help. So lovely, so powerfully emblematic of the U.S. mindset. I get few such offers here, when folks find out what we do. Life in India is so challenging, and poverty so omnipresent, that the mindset gets overwhelmed by other things.
I hear from our sons and they are well. It is wonderful to be in touch with family. I am especially happy that our sons make us proud daily - with their choices, their intellect, their treatment of others.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
7:23 PM
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