Report of 6 Nov 2015
Good evening!
We are on our balcony. It was windy earlier and the sea looked like it had a ton of little boats on it; the white spots were actually spots of white surf being kicked up by the wind. The sight was beautiful.
Work has been good. Cut short this week due to the monsoon: Chennai's road drainage system is not very good and the roads flood in rains. Commuting is a tremendous challenge. So I said I'd work from home, was available on the phone 24/7 and got a fair amount done. One of our health care workers (hcw's) lost her sister, aged 30, to what sounds like a heart attack. I have some serious teaching to do, to educate the young women to get to a health care provider when chest pain hits, so that they may take these lessons to their families. The hcw's, as I have mentioned, are spectacularly committed young women, thriving on lessons taught to them, being clinically astute, and staying unfailingly diligent with our patients, even when said patients are being difficult.
I'd brought chocolate for some of our hcws' children; not for all, luggage weight restrictions would not permit that. One of the hcw's thanked me profusely; she said it was a huge deal for them. I asked why; she said that even if it were a tiny thing, the fact that it was from overseas - assuredly out of reach for all of them - meant a lot. She said the chocolate was tasty, and that her children had given a little piece to both parents. It was a chocolate rabbit, bought for 25 cents at the $1 store's Easter clearance; that it should mean such a lot was novel for me.
My colleague at Union Hospital, Iqtidar, had given me a heap of chocolate, which I also shared with the hcw's. They blessed him and his family. Iggy is of Pakistani descent; the divide between India and Pakistan is only between the Governments, never the people.
Scott and I caught a fun Tamil movie, "Naanum Rowdy Dhaan" ("I am also a rowdy"). This was subititled, thus all the more enjoyable. We spent 4 hours in line today at an Aadhaar card event. An Aadhaar number is a unique indentifier, thought up by the Government to keep track of all of us. The event was chaotic: there is no line/queue system in India and people pushed and shoved. We waited, and waited, finally dispensing medicine to the sole Aadhaar official (very young and reeling from a headache) and getting our application seen when it was time to be seen. The lack of lines and order here irritates the **** out of me. Most things are so beautifully done in the U.S. - when the system works well.
The white cottony clouds are darkening, the grey ones are full of rain and headed elsewhere. Our complex's swimming pool, where I spent an enjoyable 40 minutes this am, is being used noisily and another evening draws to a close. My Dad saw a few patients with me at Kovalam this past Monday and said he enjoyed seeing patients again: he teaches and chairs sessions now. I was grateful for his involvement, especially with an older lady with a pronounced hunch-back; he suggested a brace, which I had not considered at all.
It is a grand profession, and such a privilege to be in it.
We Skyped with both our sons and that was joyous. As the boys used to want our attention when they were very little, we now are grateful for theirs - what a volte-face. And when a kind word comes off their tongues, woo hoo!!! Truly, the roles are reversed. They are genial young men, thus speaking with them is always fun.
Unw -
R
We are on our balcony. It was windy earlier and the sea looked like it had a ton of little boats on it; the white spots were actually spots of white surf being kicked up by the wind. The sight was beautiful.
Work has been good. Cut short this week due to the monsoon: Chennai's road drainage system is not very good and the roads flood in rains. Commuting is a tremendous challenge. So I said I'd work from home, was available on the phone 24/7 and got a fair amount done. One of our health care workers (hcw's) lost her sister, aged 30, to what sounds like a heart attack. I have some serious teaching to do, to educate the young women to get to a health care provider when chest pain hits, so that they may take these lessons to their families. The hcw's, as I have mentioned, are spectacularly committed young women, thriving on lessons taught to them, being clinically astute, and staying unfailingly diligent with our patients, even when said patients are being difficult.
I'd brought chocolate for some of our hcws' children; not for all, luggage weight restrictions would not permit that. One of the hcw's thanked me profusely; she said it was a huge deal for them. I asked why; she said that even if it were a tiny thing, the fact that it was from overseas - assuredly out of reach for all of them - meant a lot. She said the chocolate was tasty, and that her children had given a little piece to both parents. It was a chocolate rabbit, bought for 25 cents at the $1 store's Easter clearance; that it should mean such a lot was novel for me.
My colleague at Union Hospital, Iqtidar, had given me a heap of chocolate, which I also shared with the hcw's. They blessed him and his family. Iggy is of Pakistani descent; the divide between India and Pakistan is only between the Governments, never the people.
Scott and I caught a fun Tamil movie, "Naanum Rowdy Dhaan" ("I am also a rowdy"). This was subititled, thus all the more enjoyable. We spent 4 hours in line today at an Aadhaar card event. An Aadhaar number is a unique indentifier, thought up by the Government to keep track of all of us. The event was chaotic: there is no line/queue system in India and people pushed and shoved. We waited, and waited, finally dispensing medicine to the sole Aadhaar official (very young and reeling from a headache) and getting our application seen when it was time to be seen. The lack of lines and order here irritates the **** out of me. Most things are so beautifully done in the U.S. - when the system works well.
The white cottony clouds are darkening, the grey ones are full of rain and headed elsewhere. Our complex's swimming pool, where I spent an enjoyable 40 minutes this am, is being used noisily and another evening draws to a close. My Dad saw a few patients with me at Kovalam this past Monday and said he enjoyed seeing patients again: he teaches and chairs sessions now. I was grateful for his involvement, especially with an older lady with a pronounced hunch-back; he suggested a brace, which I had not considered at all.
It is a grand profession, and such a privilege to be in it.
We Skyped with both our sons and that was joyous. As the boys used to want our attention when they were very little, we now are grateful for theirs - what a volte-face. And when a kind word comes off their tongues, woo hoo!!! Truly, the roles are reversed. They are genial young men, thus speaking with them is always fun.
Unw -
R
posted by Renu Weiss at
4:21 AM
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