What a Day! Russel is Discharged and Dinner at Bandra Gymkhana

Saturday, September 22, 2018
Bombay

What a Day! Russel is Discharged and Dinner at Bandra Gymkhana

     Namaste from Bombay!
     So it is over! Our vigils of countless hours in the hospital over Russel came to a close at the end of today. But, to begin at the beginning..

A Friend's Blog:
     I awoke, as usual, at 4. 30 pm and began working. In addition to blogging myself, I am reading the blog posts of my Fulbright colleague Richard Chen See who is teaching Modern Dance under the Fulbright-Nehru Fellowship at dance schools in Bombay. Thanks to Russel's sudden hospitalization, it has not been possible for us to meet yet. But it is interesting to read his impressions of Bombay in his blog and to 'see' the city from the perspective of a foreigner--an American with no previous experience of the state capital. Things that I take for granted, he finds daunting. Like taking a local commuter train to get downtown--granted, I too had to steel myself to withstand the initial discomfort of crowds. From reading his blog, I had to wonder why Uber does not accept my credit card when I select it as my preferred mode of payment. I decided to go into my Uber settings and find out if I had done something wrong.  And lo and behold--I found that I had not programmed the 3-digit security number. The default number was in there! Well, I changed that pronto. Let us hope Uber will now accept my US credit card the next time I take a ride.  Thanks Richard!!!
     I also finalized my plenary address for the Conference at Maulana Azad University in Hyderabad to which I have been invited early next month. It is now ready and meets the time limit of 45 minutes for delivery. Next, I began work on the Powerpoint presentation that will accompany my speech. As I require the internet to source images, this is not something I can do while seated at the hospital when my duty begins. However, I had to stop at 7.00 am to hop into the shower, dress and have my
breakfast (muesli and coffee), and leave for the hospital at 8.00 am as I did want to be there with Dad.

Getting a Move On at the Hospital:
     Today was a big day as we all lived in anticipation of Russel's discharge from the hospital.  Going by what the doctors had told me last night, I had conveyed to Russel that he would be discharged today.  Hence, at the hospital, I found him calm and eager to get the heck out. He was eating his breakfast when I got there (boiled egg, 2 slices of bread and butter and coffee) and was in good spirits.
   The morning passed slowly as I read Julian Barnes The Only Story. It is slow going--the plot is dragging on. As in most of Barnes' novels, he is very much the experimentalist. He tells us early in the novel that it is about memory--or more properly about the memories garnered by the protagonist-- 19 year old "Casey Paul"--of his affair with a married mother of two grown-up daughters, who was in her late-forties when he got entangled with her. It is a sort of stream of consciousness novel and so there is very little of a story to it. However, Barnes' telling of the tale is compelling.  Like all great writers, his words are so powerful, so evocative of a mood and of a certain mental state in a young man's life that I keep wanting to find out what happens next. A good book, certainly.
     Dad and I went down for lunch together to the hospital cafeteria where he introduced me to something called Bread Pakoras--it is basically half a sandwich (a triangle) that is filled with spicy potatoes and then batter fried. He had it with a coffee while I had a Frooti--a mango drink. The sandwich was delicious! We chatted during lunch about what lies ahead for Russel and what sort of arrangements we need to make, going forward for his recovery at home.

Some More Impressions About Holy Family Hospital:
     When after lunch, there was still no sign of a doctor to order Russel's release, I had to get cracking to get things moving along.  While I have to say that overall I am very satisfied with this hospital, there are some things about it that are simply infuriating.  Nothing gets done unless relatives step in and push things along. There is zero coordination between doctors and nurses (who function mainly as admin support). Doctors tell patients one thing but there is no recording made of it in the patients' file--hence, nurses often do not act on doctors' orders. On two occasions, Dad who is ultra-vigilant, found a nurse altering Russel's dosage of a certain medication. When questioned, she said, "Doctor said..." When my Dad persisted and said, "Which doctor said?" she was nonplussed. She darted off to the Nurse's Station and then retracted her statement without so much as an apology.
     When the patient Paul was in the next bed, his nephew Melroy who happens to be a physician (a liver and pancreas specialist) in Stockholm, Sweden, found a tablet that ought to have been given to Paul lying on the floor. He told me, "Where I practice Medicine, this would constitute gross negligence. Here, anything goes..." And he is right. Everything associated with the Nurses in this hospital is a disgrace.
      I have learned not to compare US health care with what I find here--comparisons are odious and if you are going to compare, then in all fairness, you ought to take into consideration the colossal cost differences between what patients pay for health care in the US and what we are expecting to pay in this hospital. So, let me not sit on my American high horse and judge. That said, I have found the nurses to be responsive when you sit on their case and insist that something gets done. Sr. Sevika, who has been assigned to Russel, is lovely--she is soft-spoken, kind and efficient. But she is not always on duty and the ones who work in her stead...well, the less said about them the better. Besides, how can I expect nurses to nurse when they are required to do so much routine admin work for which the hospital really ought to employ a host of secretarial staff?
     Anyway, only after I went to the Nurse's Station and demanded I speak to a doctor did things start moving. Dad and I were concerned as Russel's tension continued to mount as the morning progressed. While we had kept him in check all morning with the line, "The doctor will be here soon..." it also became apparent that no doctor was likely to materialize. Hence, my prodding--which produced instant results. Dr. Vijay was called on the phone; he spoke to me and said that Russel could be discharged. He would give the order right away and billing processes would begin. He would also come around at 3.00 pm to give us instructions on how to manage the drainage tube and bag still attached to Russel's knee.
     Phew! What a relief! We conveyed the good news to Russel that he would be discharged and the long and arduous process of leaving the hospital began. Again, Russel did not sleep a wink today. He was wide awake and alert and wished to participate in every aspect of his discharge. It was 1.00 pm then and I was on my feet from that point on until 6.15 pm when the ambulance finally arrived to take Russel from his ward to the vehicle to his flat. I made countless trips up and down elevators to pay the bill (far less than we had imagined--I told you! Health care costs are very reasonable in this hospital) and then get a refund (for we had paid an advance far in excess of the actual bill). I returned drugs that had not been used (yes, in India, they do take them back provided they are unopened and still in their original packaging) at the pharmacy and received a refund for the visitors' passes that we were issued to get in and out of the hospital as attendants.
     I texted the physiotherapist to find out if she would give him a last hospital session--she said she would be there at 4.00 pm. I also went to the Historiography Department to pick up the biopsy report on Russel's synovec and knee bone--but it was not ready and I was told to expect a call on Monday or Tuesday. Bone biopsy, they informed me, takes longer as the bone has to de-calcify before they can analyze it. Next, I met with the Residents, Dr. Vijay and Dr. Parth, who showed our day attendant how to manage Russel's knee drainage bag and also gave Dad and me further instructions on returning to the hospital this coming Thursday to remove stitches and to place his knee in a fiberglass cast. They explained that the cast will go all the way up and cover the knee cap. It will be molded in such a way that he will be able to flex it slightly so that he can move around gradually under guidance from a physiotherapist.
     Lenita, the physiotherapist, arrived at 4.00 pm at which point I had to organize an ambulance to take Russel back home.  Given the hour of the day--evening peak hour rush--it was caught somewhere in traffic and would take at least an hour, they said, for them to pick up Russel. He grew more anxious as time passed and with it Dad's stress levels also grew. I watch my Dad's reactions and I thank the Lord silently each time that He has endowed me with calm in the face of calamity. I tried hard to quell growing levels of stress all around me as I coped with the tasks of the afternoon. Somewhere along the way, the drainage tube started leaking and Dr. Parth had to be called in to redo the knee dressing.
     Eventually, the ambulance guys did arrive and a super-eager Russel (who had supervised our packing of all our stuff into our bags and who demanded to know the amount of the final bill!) was wheeled out of the ward, into the elevator and into the ambulance. We were home about 20 minutes later--thankfully, the hospital is very conveniently located. It took six grown men to haul him up the few stairs to my Dad's apartment but he was finally in his room and on his bed and his relief was palpable although he does not really express emotion easily.
     I stayed around for about a half hour to make sure he and Dad were comfortable and then I left. I stopped at the local grocery store to buy things like Bisleri water, a roll of paper towels (which I learned is called "kitchen roll" in India!), Schweppes Tonic water and a new local cereal I am trying called Harvest Crunch. I asked them to home-deliver my buys and then walked to my place.

Unwinding at Bandra Gym:
      I simply had to get back to my own space after what had been a harrowing day and find a way to decompress. I called my friend Shahnaz and asked her if she would join me at the Bandra Gymkhana for a drink and a bite. She was up to her eyes in paper work but jumped at the chance to get away from it for a while. We made plans to meet at the Gym at 8.00 pm and I got dressed.    
    We met at 8.00 at the Gym entrance as scheduled and rode in the elevator up to the third floor dining hall which was already fairly full. We settled down with drinks (G and T for me, Heineken for her) and starters: the most delicious stir-fried garlic-pepper prawns with whole peppercorns that were amazingly flavorful and 'crostini' which was a selection of four bruscehtta--cheese, tomato, mushroom and olives--all fab. For dinner we chose to share a Jungli (veg) Pizza which was amazing with kulfi (Indian ice-cream) which we shared for dessert.  The food at the Bandra Gym is excellent and I am so glad that I took the plunge to use my membership, for the first time since I have arrived in Bombay, over drinks and dinner with a friend. I could unwind completely from all the stress and running around of the day.

What I Have Learned Over the Past 13 Days:
     What were my final reactions about the entire hospital experience? Well, I patted myself on the back for the quick learning through which I mastered all the hospital systems--13 days ago, I felt like a fish out of water in the hospital. By the time we left, I could guide other people about how to get on!
     I managed to get a whole lot of work done while keeping vigil with Russel--so although I did not do any field research as planned, I was able to proof read a whole forthcoming book on Goa and begin and finish the drafting of a plenary address for my next conference. I was able to do a great deal of reading as well.
      Plus, I got to know doctors, nurses, even menial staff--when I went around thanking and tipping everyone from the sweeper who cleaned the toilet and bathroom in our ward to the smiling girls who served Russel his meals, etc. they were amazed that their contribution was even acknowledged. I do not believe that anyone tips the cleaning and wait staff here. But every single one of these people worked as a team to make Russel's hospital experience as pleasant as it could be--including his ward-mates over 12 days who were wonderfully co-perative and understanding.
     In the hospital, I saw the best side of human nature--kindness, understanding, co-operation from doctors, staff, fellow-patients and their loved ones--and the worst side of it: cruelty meted by a shrew of a sister belittling her vulnerable polio-stricken brother for getting malaria and putting her through "trouble".    
      Best of all were the doctors and interns who were not only astoundingly knowledgeable, but compassionate and kind and communicative. I know now why Indian doctors are among the finest in the world and are in demand all over the planet.  Long may their kindness and expertise reign!
     And finally, I need to reiterate that I consider it a pleasure and a privilege to be here in Bombay at this time and to be able to support my Dad and my brother through this experience which has been such a fantastic learning curve for me. I do not for a second resent the intrusion into my life or my work. Indeed what I have seen of human devotion between my father and his 'special' son during this experience has been a marvelous opportunity for me to reflect on how blessed we are to have Russel in our lives and how blessed he is to have had parents like my Mum and Dad who nurtured him with such constant love and unstinting patience. I learned so much about being a parent and about the kind of devotion that the job calls for--even at this stage it my life, it is never to late! What I can contribute, in my own advanced years, is such a joy and such a blessing that I cannot express it in words.
     Thanks for sharing this hospital journey with me.  I know that although none of you comment on my posts, many of you read my rumination. It feels good for me to know that you are out there and that I have friends who stand in solidarity with me through the best and worst times I experience in life. I have no words to thank you.
     Until tomorrow....