Waiting in Bombay's Holy Family Hospital, Bandra

Wednesday, September 12, 2018
Bombay

Waiting in Bombay's Holy Family Hospital, Bandra

     Namaste from Bombay!
     Although I did not believe I would sleep a wink, I actually crashed. Awaking at 5.00 am, I began blogging and responding to email. At 6.00, I rushed in for a shampoo and shower--somehow I believed I would get home really late and feel too tired to even take a shower.  Good job I went by instinct!
     I spent the next hour making sandwiches for lunch for Dad and myself--I discovered only later that 'outside' food is not allowed in Holy Family Hospital.  I did not know this. Gone are the days when you could take fruit, cookies, etc. up to patients. Security people at the main entrance to the hospital check bags--I had thought for arms. It tuns out, they check for contraband food! Luckily I escaped detection today as they did not check my bag. From tomorrow, I shall have to get back home for lunch (an easy 15 minute walk) or pick up something from nearby Hersch Bakery.
     At 7.15 am, Dad called me to say that he wanted to leave at 7.45, not 8.00 as previously agreed. This left me with fifteen minutes less to get ready--I had to change bags to accommodate my IPad, which I thought I would carry with me so that I could continue reading my novel while keeping vigil by Russel's bedside. Anyway, I rushed through the making and packing of sandwiches and my breakfast--I actually had to carry my breakfast with me to the hospital and finish eating it there--again, no one caught me...and I had no idea anyway that I was not allowed to eat in the hospital.  I do now see the wisdom of such rules; but coming from America, where we take great big hampers of fruit and goodies to hospital patients, I was not aware of these rules.
     I met Dad at 7.45 at the 'corner', we hopped into a rick and reached the hospital ten minutes later.  There, we received the news that Russel had spent a sleepless night--anxiety had kept him wide awake and he, his night attendant and the other occupants of the room were kept awake all night with his talking. He was absolutely delighted to see my Dad (mainly) and me. On seeing him in the hospital garb, my Dad burst into tears and remained emotional for at least ten minutes.  I comforted him as best I could and wondered why he was so moved to tears. I realized it was because he could not bear to see Russel in hospital knowing how little Russel wanted to be there.
     Dad also told me that during his shower water had accumulated in his ear and he could barely ear even out of his good ear. He wanted to see our friend, ENT specialist, Dr Chris D'Souza.  A call to his home and his mobile drew a blank.  That's when I realized that he was probably in the States. A quick text to my friend Ian confirmed this fact. I told Dad to lie down on his side to allow the water to drain out. He did so and in about a couple of hours, he felt his hearing return. Phew!
     The rest of my day passed slowly. I continued to remain in the room leaving only when Russel needed to pee--the attendant helps him while he lies on the bed. Those days have gone when nurses 'nurse'. Today all they seem to do is administrative work--sitting behind a counter or talking on a phone. However, they are attentive and polite and prompt.  Most requests are acceded to. Russel told me that a nun came around to give him Communion at 7.00am--which he received. He ate his breakfast at 8.00 am, received coffee at 10.00 am, soup at 11.30 am, his non-veg lunch at 1.30 pm, coffee at 4.00 pm and his dinner at 7.30 pm. He is in a very sad mood--it is quite pitiful to watch him.  Every few minutes, he keeps saying that if all his tests are normal, they will send him home.  I have tried to explain to him that if all his tests are normal, they will be able to go ahead with the 'procedure' to fix his leg on Saturday.  Now he seems to accept that he will be in the hospital till Saturday. We cannot use the words 'surgery' or 'operation' as they disturb him psychologically too much. Hence, we have to be careful in choosing our vocabulary around him--nothing to shake his equilibrium. I am trying to get him to change the topic of conversation and to discuss other things with him--such as the cricket (India was trounced by England in the last match that he was watching on TV), the ailment of the man on the next bed, etc. But he was having none of it. The bulk of my day was spent trying to lighten his mood. He is extremely anxious about what lies ahead and has been badly shaken by his fall.
     Mid-morning, a physician named Dr. Rajesh Uchil came to visit Russel to certify that he was fit for surgery.  He glanced at Russel's pre-op report and declared that he needs salt capsules to up his sodium level. He was really nice and patiently answered all of Russel's personal questions--when is your birthday, how many children do you have, what do they do, etc. He made him feel quite comfortable and then left after telling me that they would need to do another test to make sure salt levels had increased.
     Also at mid-morning, we managed to change rooms and get him from a 3-bedded AC room to a twin non-AC room (Russel does not like the AC at all and Dad is allergic to it). The shift was taking place just when the urologist arrived to see him--Dr. Sobati--with his assistant. Dr. Nishant. He ordered a bladder sonogram, but when I insisted that this had been done only six weeks ago, he asked for the file, reviewed the report, saw that it was normal and decided against it. I did show him the tablets Russel has been taking for an overactive bladder. I like the practice of a trainee doctor (resident?) shadowing a senior doctor and learning the ropes as he goes along.  He is the one who makes notes and then carries out orders for new prescriptions.
     Russel settled down in his new room quite easily.  It is a much smaller room and offers fewer facilities than the larger, more expensive one did. However, since there are only two patients in the room, there is less possibility of Russel disturbing fellow-patients in the ward.  I apologized to the other two patients before I left, but they were so accommodating and so understanding of the situation that they told me not to worry at all.
     In the afternoon I insisted that Dad go home for a rest.  I told him that he ought to have a long nap and that there would be no one to disturb him.  I told him that I would hold the fort at the hospital as he was keen that there should be someone with Russel at all times--we expected a bevy of physicians to see him today. Much to my amazement, Dad did agree to go and set out at 2.00 pm. I expected him back by 4.00 pm. In the afternoon, I also insisted that the curtains be drawn and the room darkened, so that Russel could try to get some sleep.  I took my 20 minute nap on the accompanying seat which turned out to be just a wooden plank and not cushioned as in the previous ward. Russel did sleep in short spurts of 20 minutes and probably got some rest for about two ours. Adrenalin is pumping through his body making him acutely anxious and keeping him wide awake.
     At 4.00 pm, Subhash, the man who is installing my internet and cable, came to visit Russel and spent about an hour with him.  He was an unexpected visitor but both Russel and I were delighted to see him. At 5.00 pm. my cousin Meera came to visit with her husband Cyril.  They sat for about a half hour at the same time that my friend Shahnaz came to visit too.  That's when I discovered that a single pass is issued per patient and only one visitor is allowed in at a time. Wow! This too represents a major shift in hospital policy. There was a time when a dozen relatives and friends would gather around a patient and make a party out of it.  Well, not any more.  For security, safety and hygiene reasons, only one person is allowed at a patient's bedside at a time. I had to take the pass and go down to bring Shahnaz up. She was allowed in as a special case but, in the future, I will have to adhere to the rules. Dad informed me that people do not make hospital visits anymore. They wait until a patient returns home before they go a-calling--for precisely these reasons.  It is amazing how much of a learning curve I am going through, in small ways and large.
     It was great to visit with Shahnaz for a while. I was actually really getting alarmed when Dad did not return by 5.30 pm, and requested Meera to swing by his place and find out what was going on. But at 6.45 pm, he walked in.  It turns out that he had errands to run and he did these while he had the time off. He had run from the church to our home to take care of petitions for the Novena to Our Mother of Perpetual Succor that he has conducted in our church for the past fifteen years.  
      It was a huge relief to see him at the same time that Meera called to tell me he was not at home.  At about 6.45 pm, Jon Ken arrived. He also visited with Russel for a while and had a long chat with me to get an update on Russel's situation. He stayed for about an hour and left. Meanwhile, the man in the bed by Russel's side was discharged and the bed was re-made. Then, Dr. Vijay came along to re-do Russle's dressing and to make sure the wound under the plaster was not getting infected.  It wasn't. He redid the dressing, used a small amount of plaster to stabilize the foot and left. Angels are certainly hovering over Russel.
     A while later, one of Russel's favorite physicians, the neurologist Dr Sushil Tandel, came to see Russel.  He is very fond of Russel and has always treated him with the utmost understanding and kindness.  He certified Russel fit for surgery while chatting companionably with him and wishing him well.
     The orthopedist, Dr. Derrick D'Lima, arrived again at about 9.30 pm. He gave Russel the merest cursory glance and left. He confirmed that surgery for the foot would be on Saturday at 11.00 am.  Russel will now have to be prepared, mentally, for this next step.
     Neither Dad nor I were able to do much reading throughout the day. It is hard to focus on anything when your mind is so-preoccupied. Although Dad had his newspaper and I had my iPad, we did some cursory browsing and that was it.
     I got back home at 10.00 pm, had my dinner, washed, watched some TV but since my eyes were closing, I gave up the battle to stay awake and sank into sleep.
     Tomorrow is Ganesh Chaturti or Ganpati--the city of Bombay will come to a virtual standstill as Maharashtrian Hindus celebrate the feast of their favorite god--the elephant-headed Ganesh. The hospital will be working on skeletal staff and it promises to be a very quiet day.  I hope to carry my computer along and get started with the drafting of the plenary address I have been invited to give in Hyderabad.  Hopefully, I will be able to go to that conference in early October...
     Until tomorrow...