Crazy Indians

A jewelry box made entirely of beautifully carved ivory at the Prince of Wales Museum
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We have seen awesome medicine practiced by fantastic doctors in a crazy crazy country of ailments, until this week.  This weeks clinical rotation includes the government hospital.  I dont mean to speak poorly about it, because I am seeing a heck of a lot of strange things (like kittens in the hallways) which can be awesome, but the difference in doctors and practice is slightly urking.

The first day I was in the operating room (here it is called the OT for Operating Theater) and saw a tissue mass removed from a man's breast (I think it was a man, if not it was a really small breasted woman, not that it matters) and the surgeon had shakier hands than me!  I know that is hard to believe for those of you who have seen me in action, but oh my goodness would I NEVER let that man operate on anyone I know!  And I do not say this only because he has shaky hands, but his technique was aweful.  I think he might have even been a student, but there was no one other than him opearting!  I just dont know.  He removed the mass fine, but as soon as he went to stitch the patient up, he was just shoving those stitches through in random places and pulling the skin together however it came, not quite aligned as it should be, and also really tight so it was like this crater in his chest.  Then at one point he put in a stitch and got one end stuck in his knot, so he starts poking at it with his clamps and trying to pull it straight again, totally not succeeding, so he uses his hands to pull the cut back apart and it starts bleeding all over, after he just cleaned the patient up!  It was just too much to handle.  I dont want to talk about it any more...yes I do.

Government Hospitals and joy rides

A sword with real gemstones in the handle....Phil, Kate tried to steal it for you...just kidding =)
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So Tuesday, there was a patella fracture on an old lady (she fell and cracked it into upper and lower halves), and they were going to take some wires and tie it all back together, basically.  First of all, the man doing her surgery came off as a bit of prick before the surgery started, grilling us on x y and z that we had no idea about!  Not to mention that he had the thickest accent of any doctor yet, so even if I wanted to know the answer, I could barely understand what he was asking.  So he started the surgery and I kid you not he cut into that woman's leg like it was a hunt for the bone in a thanksgiving turkey, just ripping things out of place and shoving things wherever he wanted, with absolutely no care for the anatomical structure of the knee.  It was a bit disturbing.

Dr. Mehta's clinic...the one who gave me Placentrex! Mrs. on the right is the Homeopath, sometimes.
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Beyond the doctors' techniques, the hospital in itself is something else.  The hallways were pretty gross, like walking under some bleachers is all I can think of to explain it.  It was all made of cement, to clean it they take this dirty old mop and water and push around the dirt until it falls out a hole on the wall, and best of all there were cats running around the hallways...yes, CATS!  Ok ok, so they were kittens but thats even worse!  That means cats are not only living in there but having babies there too.  They clean the rubber gloves before they sterilize them (yes, they resterilize gloves, but thats actually common in poor countries)and to dry they hang them on a clothes line in the middle of the hallway.  I will steer clear of that!  The cleanest ward, thankfully, was the neonatal unit.  When you walk in you must put on a sterile gown, take off your shoes (gettin used to this!) and it is enclosed from the rest of the hospital, and has A/C!  I ran into a neonatologist in here, and asked him some questions, and then he let me follow him around the maternity ward (YES!) and do rounds checking the new born tinies.  Holy moly are they the cutest things.  Tiny tan little bundles in these tiny diapers made of a itsy bits of cloth barely fitting around their bums.  And there is just this one big room with all the mommas and their babies laying next to them.  New moms seem to be friendly here because they all smiled at me.  Love the attitude of a new Mommy, always so happy...to have it over!  Ha.  Just kidding.  But really, everyone was really understanding of me trekking along with the doc, which was great.  After rounds with the doc (who seemed to be like 35 and the oldest doc I saw all week) I meandered into the gyn OPD (Out Patient Department) and got to witness a woman who had a collapsed uterus and bladder (that means they were hanging OUTSIDE of body) for 15 years!  Thats absurd, but thats what it comes to around here when people dont understand medicine and are afraid of it.  However, I dont know if I can blame them if they are always coming to the government hospitals!  Next week is a private hospital...I cant wait to see the contrast.

Alex and I lookin fansy to celebrate her 15 years in America...in India! Check out that sparkley Bindi!
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On the way home (wow I just called the guest house home!) from clinic one day I was sitting in a rikshaw with one of the program people who helps us get around, and we drove by a funeral possession, so I got curious about some of their customs, and asked her about them.  A lot of customs vary from one religion to another...even the jewelry they where when they are married.  For funerals, Hindus cremate their loved ones, and Muslims bury.  When married, Hindus(?) wear a long black and gold necklace, green bangles on both wrists, two toe rings, two anklets (hey I look married here with my feet decorations!).  They usually wear a saree and a red Bindi (I bought some of those too haha).

At Zenzi with the ladies. Sarah, me, Alex, Susan (who missed the train) and Susan (who didnt miss any trains)
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At night we had night clinic, about 40 minutes away.  Needless to say, I napped on the way.  I keep myself so busy during the days that I tire myself out, so going to a clinic from 7 to 11 at night is just kind of absurd to start with, never mind making it so far away when there are plenty of clinics all over!  Not to mention that the taxi drivers think we are stupid white foreigners, and have attempted to screw with us one too many times.  On the last night, we got a taxi that was not a friend of the doctors (sometimes they call one up for us) and we started in the middle of Mumbai, drove us down to south Mumbai, around the outskirts of Mumbai, and then back up north where we belonged!  Not to mention that during that round about he would pull off squares on small roads and think we didnt notice!  At one point I pointed out that we were WAY out of the way driving by a train station in south Mumbai, and Ross yells BOOSE, BOOSE! (thats not the real spelling but it means STOP!) and we all start to get out of the car to take the train while Ross yells at the driver, but he is yelling at us to stay in the car because he IS going the right way and starts to explain the way we are going in Hindi, so we just say fine and go along with it.

The boys who took us out to Poison. Eddy on the left and Azeem on the right. Dont worry, they are not strangers =)
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He continues to go a round about backwards way and we call up our program alum and ask her what to do and to talk to this idiot in Hindi, so she does, and then she tells us to just give him what we usually pay and say "screw you, leave".  So we pull into the guest house, FINALLY, and give him 150 Rupees (we have never paid more than 120 so this is more than enough) even though the meter reads over 250.  He starts yelling and screaming at us, and we walk away from the gate where we had him drop us off, so he gets in his car, revs his engine and comes shootin down the road at us.  I of course freak myself out thinking he is going to run us over (who am I kidding, they dont even kill gnats here!) and I run behind a tree to gain cover from this crazy Indian.  He follows us all the way to the guest house and we had to have the desk man security guy come out and talk to him.  He just would not quit!  Then to top it all off, he tells some extravagant lie that we started in south Mumbai!  Ha ha if you count the part where we tried to get out!  Psycho.  That was quite an experience, and I think he liked the guest house because he stuck around outside for quite some time!  And the truth is, its not about the rupees, its just the principle of not thinking he can get away with screwin over the foreigners.  Jerkface.

Dancing at Poison...to Bebo and Love Generation!
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The wife doctor at the night clinic (another pair!) also practiced Homeopathic medicine on those will long term ailments and no other medical choices (here if a doctor does not give the patient SOMETHING, they will think they are a bad doctor and may not trust them anymore).  I learned that Homeopathic medicine is taking the agent that causes the symptoms and using it to treat similar problems.  For example, some parts of snake venim is used to treat muscle aches (or whatever snake bites cause).  Some of it is a little nutty.  She showed us her collection of homeopathic medicine, which consisted of tiny balls of sugar (literally, she had be try some) that she puts small drops of liquid (all different) on based on their problems.  Sounds a little like witch craft to me!  Even she admited, some of it is a placebo effect.  Hey, whatever works.  One of her patients was a young boy who wouldnt talk.  I dont remember what she gave him but it helps with development, and after some time he began to talk!  Though that may have happened all on its own, the family is content to think the medicine did the trick.

The Neonatal unit. Doent it look clean?!
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The more touristy side of my week included The Prince of Wales Museum (it has a new name since this place changed everything, but dont ask me what it is, something I cant pronounce so I wont even kid myself).  Here they had three floors of a lot of historical things, to put it simply.  On the first floor they had some ancient sculptures from some of the caves, the ones that tell stories.  There were of course sculptures of Ganesha and his mother and father, the Gods.  The sculptures were made from basalt, sandstone, mlimestone, and marble.  Limestone is used on flat carvings and usually tell a story, basalt is a hard tone and used for lots of statues (so they dont blow over!), and sandstone is good for curves in the face or belly as it is easier to carve (guess those grains of sand move easily).  I also got to learn how they made bronze sculptures (woohoo).  Hey guess what...ivory is now banned from India, for the sake of the elephants.  Told you they dont kill anything here, not that killing elephants is a good idea...I want to ride one!  That would be sad if they were not around.

Pre tailored fabric. Lets see how these bad boys come out.
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We also hit up Santa Cruz market (Santa Cruz is the area of Mumbai that I am staying in) and I ALMOST bought a saree...before I realized that I dont quite have anywhere to wear it.  It was absolutely stunning (sage of course), and if I walk by it again I might cave.  We will see how strong my self restraint is =)  However, I did buy fabric off the street and brought it to a tailor to get made into a dress!  I am kind of excited about this.  It kills me that I didnt make it myself, but truth is I will now have something I designed and got made in India!  Rock on.  Of course...it is GREEN!  I pick it up on Wednesday, two days before I leave!  Lets hope it fits.

If you werent afraid of me before, now you are...
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Wednesday night one of the girls (Alex) in the program was celebrating 15 years in America...in India.  Nice touch!  So we took the group (everyone who was not in Panvel this week) to Zenzi and got some dinna.  I got some won ton soup, but what I find hilarious were my options...veg or non veg!  Everything in India is veg or non veg, and half of the restaurants are pure veg.  Here its like asking if your religion, cept its asked way more often, and little kids will run up to us being foreigners and ask us, and when we say non-veg they giggle like someone just told them someone has a crush on them!  Its quite humorous.  So....I got non-veg, of course (gotta get my protein where I can!), but I was a little disappointed because it tasted an aweful like fish.  There was shrimp in it which I was not expecting and the taste just lingered.  I thought it was just chicken.  I might have to do veg if I do it again.  Hmmm...maybe its time to get home.

Kittens in the hallways of V N Desai Government Hospital
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After dinner we went down the street to a club called Poison.  This was a blast and they played some of my favorite songs (for those of you dying to know which, Love Generation and Bebo).  I will intercept myself with one comment here.  For those of you who know about my small obsession with Justin Timberlakes song Lovestoned (Is it big yet?! lll be glad to have missed the overplaying) I cant wait to hear it again!  At this internet cafe they play music and its great modern music, but its always they same, so I asked them to download Lovestoned (of course I did) but he couldnt get it =(  Im craving some JT.  Dont tell anyone.  Guilty pleasure.  Back to my week, after Poison we went to get some pizza (thats when you got the phone call Hen!) at the Hyatt and then hit up another bar inside the Hyatt that apparently doesnt close.  It was very fun to get a bit of the night scene while in Mumbai.  I mean, what would Mumbai be without it?!  Just slums and rikshaws.

Fact of the week: If you know people in Mumbai, and are white, you can do anything you want and everything is free...except long cab rides.

Lesson of the week: Do not trust Indian mops.

Hindi word: Bus! = stop/enough!

Tummy talking:  Lets get outa here and eat some of Jaymo's chili!