Of Nursing Homes and Theatre Complexes

My arrival to the hotel - was unceremonious. And so my usual ritual continued- I can't seem to help myself- I painstakingly got settled in to my beautiful room. Which is my compulsive way. Marriott rooms are always so classy, white sheets, and simple elegant decor. I love it.
First things first- unpack, receive my gift of arrival. I chose a bowl of fruit. I stayed up four hours getting my room just so. I packed my hand carried bag with all my papers for the Dr. I set out 7 beautiful photo's of my daughter, husband and best friend- nice reminders of some of the important people in my life- so I could feel supported and look at familiar loved ones 10,000 miles away from home. I set out my outfit for this day- my first Dr. visit. I messed with my computer trying to get hooked up, with only moderate success. I believe I got out ,maybe, one e-mail before , I couldn't communicate any more. I asked for a wake up call- that never came- but got to sleep around 7 a.m and slept until 10 a.m. My appointment was at 2p.m this afternoon- same day of arrival in India-
I really felt like I was running on fumes. I obtained a cab from a concierge's recommendation - He arrived in a cute little blue car. And off I went to Dr. Malpani's office in Colaba. It took almost two hours to arrive by car. I left at noon, so I arrived in plenty of time. I told the cab driver that I was going to a clinic. He responded with " a nursing home?" I said no " a clinic like Dr. office" he responded "yes, I understand a nursing home! We call a clinic nursing home." I explained, that, " In America- that is a place for old people" We both laughed heartily. He did not speak English with a great command of knowledge- but we found some words occasionally through much effort on both our parts, that we both understood. I spent most of the time having a gander at all the unfamiliar sites around. I saw so much - poverty and wealth, side by side. I took a lot of pictures. I saw one man writhing on the road in the dirt- it looked like he was dying of some pain, unknown to me- my heart leapt for his apparent discomfort and distress- and he appeared to be suffering more deeply than any of those around, but I didn't see a finger or a body helping him in any way. I was left to wonder. The complexity of life here has it's mystery's- I will never know or understand. I saw cows, and the common auto rickshaw- armies of yellow and black pseudo car/motorcyles. Lots of people from all walks, beautiful flowering trees, concrete jungles punctuated with signs of green life and crowded streets. Beggars, and those selling there wares. Beautiful clothing of color on the woman, and fitted long shirts and slacks for men. I noticed that no matter what class- not many were wearing t-shirts and dungarees - Most people looked immaculate, and I wondered as to how they had whites that looke so white, and clothes looked so pressed. I wondered at it all and marveled at the ability to hold on to this kind of decency in the middle of little space to live and operate out of. Many homes I saw were but mere shacks or tiny apartments in very tall buildings. And still many homes were not- some were condos separated by our roadway near the ocean. I know that most people here use a laundry service. I have watched you tube videos of the process. It is something to watch. We went over one very large beautiful bridge- 7 Islands connect Mumbai all together. I am staying at the Courtyard Marriott, near the airport in Andheri, my Dr's office is South- a long ways -in Colaba. All part of Mumbai. Mumbai was a gift- from the Dowry of a woman who married a Spanish man. For a long time it was a trading area-and occupied that way because the (prince or king ) in Spain did not know what to do with the gift. It became a major trading port for the East India Company, because the man who inherited it though his marriage leased it as a trading port. Which actually happens to be a major part of my heritage- I believe through John Murray Forbes. I do not have all the history in my head- but it makes me want to know more- I will spend some time finding the connection. Mumbai was first occupied the most by a Hindu ruler, and later Muslim. I need to check my facts to provide any more information.. Since it is hard to have history stay permanently in my brain. I would like to provide more-but that is all that stayed with me. The architecture is interesting and varied here. I took lots of pictures to see some of the contrasts.
I did at last arrive to the "Malpani Nursing Home" my driver was right- the sign said exactly that, I laughed again to myself when I finally witnessed the result. Their was a guard at the head of the alley - I asked him for Malpani Clinic, he pointed in a direction- I wandered forward- completely clueless- because there were no official signs, marking the way beyond what I saw initially. There were several buildings in my direction, with no formal entrances. I think the guard saw my hesitation, as I moved forward- because he came along beside me in pretty quick succession after that. He led me to a strange entrance to a tenement looking building- and I found myself in a closet like elevator- going to the fifth floor. I came out and saw the words I was looking for. It was hot. I walked in and was not received with any kind of fanfare. I don't think I should have expected any, but.... I made my own. I set my bag down- hauled out my camera- and said loudly with a smile, "I am here!!!"-I got a few grins and snapped a photo.
Then they were back to business as usual. I gave my name and sat to wait. I took in my surroundings and snuck a few more pictures. I began thinking about the fact that my period had started already- and was concerned at the day progressing without any drugs that I might need to be on- like yesterday! I pulled the nurse aside and said " The Dr. will probably want to know, I started my period yesterday." I was supposed to arrive two days before my period. I left enough cushion in my schedule to actually arrive 4 days ahead, for this reason. Instead I started early and was in fear of my cycle cancellation. I was uneasy with this change of circumstance. I wanted to let someone know, in case it made any difference, and also in case it required any kind of preparation on their part. I waited. There were no assurances, just waiting.
I glance at the Dr.'s patients, I wondered if there were any foreigners here like me. I could't tell. I crossed my legs, than uncrossed them- and put both feet on the floor. I hoped I hadn't offended anyone- If the soles of your feet are up here- towards anyone, it can be very offensive. I tried to stay in check. They had me move to a new room. I saw the Dr.'s door then, and a new reception. One of the doors said "Theatre room" Well, I thought, this must be where all the action happens, when the Dr. does the operations, and such- the place where all the drama occurs. Magic happens in the cinema. I was looking forward to my day in the "theatre room". The words were off, for my knowledge, just like the "nursing home" so , I would only be able to venture a guess. It did give me some quiet humor-in an inside joke kind of way. Guess you'd have to be here.
The conditions were warm, the nurses smiled my way now and again, and the atmosphere quiet, clean, furnished nicely and simple. I think they were perplexed at me taking there picture. I snapped a few more, as they worked in earnest. I could tell that I created a little curiosity- but that was the fun part. I could see the humor in "lissy's " eyes, an older nurse with what looked like a sense of humor- she also looked hard and bossy- but a glimmer of a veteran was in her eyes. I liked her immediately. I could tell she was humored by my approach.
Soon I was ushered in to the Dr's office. I didn't offer my hand as I knew that wasn't common here. I took my seat and listened to him. He asked me why I had not gone back to my old In vitro clinic. I said because it was too expensive, he pressed further. Were you happy with your service there. I said yes, mostly, but I wasn't as happy with the Dr. in the end. He asked ,"why?" I said, "because he didn't end up doing my transfer, and I was dissappointed" Especially because I paid quite a lot of money for an early pre-transfer round, because he claimed he wanted to get to know the lay of the land so to speak before he actually performed the transfer, and then he wasn't there. He had someone else do it." Dr. Malpani, asked "did you tell him you were dis- satisfied." I said "no". I then remembered that Dr. Malpani had a lot to say about the Dr. and patient relatioship and how many patients don't tell the Dr. what went wrong. Like anywhere, most of us stay quiet when disappointed in service. He then asked "why didn't he do the procedure" I said," I didn't know, but rather suspected that it was his day off." I felt he should have showed up- he was supposed to be my Dr. I placed a lot of trust and felt we had built the relationship, and I expected him to follow through. When he didn't I felt compromised." The Dr. said " "Why didn't you say anything?" I said, "Well, I knew we weren't going to have a second In Vitro there- because, we couldn't afford another one, and that basically I was satisfied at around 90% with the overall service, and I never went back for the post follow up. I was licking my wounds, and didn't want to go back" Finally Dr. Malpani grew somewhat satisfied with that answer. I said, "I promise I will be up front with you- as you can see with my e-mails" We had had a few e-mail exchanges where I was quite perturbed at not getting my answers. I pointed at them." I am a fairly forthright person." He glanced at them and appeared to read a little. He then asked many questions I might expect. Related to our course of action. He assured me also, that the current circumstance of having started my period wouldn't have much effect on the whole. He asked me if I understood why. I ventured a guess and said "probably because my body is cleansing itself and getting ready to start a fresh endometrium layer, and mostly everything is washing away to start new." he said "Exactly, the medicine you take in the beginning is to downregulate, before we regulate you up, then we give you the super ovulation drugs, to produce many eggs." I was satisfied with that- we took care of business and discussed a few other matters- while he put together a regimen plan. He told me that he planned on giving me higher doses than my last In Vitro cycle, because of my older age, since the last in vitro, a little over a year ago. I figured he was telling me that medicine might be more too, although he didn't say it. Soon, I was prepared to go. He was sending me home with Micro-leuprolide. Enough doses until my next appointment in a few days. I met with my nurses- who gave me my first little shot in the belly. They told me to keep the medicine cold. Off I went.
The Taxi driver was asleep. In very high heat. He had turned off the car and didn't have any airconditioning. He washed his face of sweat with a towel. This is when I noticed that everyone had towels like this. I pressed him further for details of his life. Like- how many hours he worked yesterday. He told me "15 hours" I imagined then that when I paid him to wait, it must be a godsend- this might be the only chance to sleep. I then noticed many taxi drivers pulled off on the side of the roads- collapsed of exhaustion- sleeping. I imagined that they themselves must feel very vulnerable this way. Most had their doors open to escape the heat and get a breeze, as well as many were open aired, engine run rickshaws. What a hard life, among the many that appeared to have hard lives wherever you looked.
I was feeling much happier now. I wouldn't see the dr. again for a few days.This was Monday, and I would go back until Wednesday. This would be the day they started me on the intramuscular drug, along with the Lupride. And I would have what they called "a scan". In the U.S. we call it avaginal ultrasound. I was feeling very proud of myself at this point - I had accomplished everything I had set out to do, and navigated successfully through unknown territory. A little victory dance!
The driver of my car- decided to give me a little gift, he dropped me off on the beach Chowpatty Beach, and I walked down to the ocean. Here I was on the Arabian Sea-I took a few pictures and a small video of my observances, and noticed that the skies were very dark indeed, and then the heavens opened up- and a surprise deluge of rain opened up. I ran very fast, as did everyone else seeking shelter. I was very glad to have a taxi to seek comfort in. I took one last picture of many crowded under one big old tree (maybe a Banyan tree) It is my favorite picture taken to date. I was soaked through, and shivered all the way back to the hotel. I was delighted though with the adventure. I imagined that some people must of been bemused my me, a foreign spectacle running across the beach with fast moving pale legs. A sight for sure.
I returned to the hotel and concentrated on getting on line. I had quite a sort of people trying to help, engineers and the manager of the rooms. It happened many times before I was up and running- and took many hours before I was able to communicate.The biggest problem, that the manager, not the engineers figures out- was that my computer actually didn't need the adapter that I had, because it is an international hotel, and geared for business people. The plugs had adapters within, and thus took my American style plug directly.
Then I rested for 3 hours, and began to really miss my sleep and American food.