Friday, March 14, 2014

Week 10: Halfway There

     I have been in India for 10 weeks now. It seems like ages, but at the same time not very long.  I find myself much more at ease with the country and less of a tourist.  I know what it should cost me on public transportation to get around certain areas, what a hostel should cost, and how to haggle banana's down.  I know how to get to and use the New Delhi metro with my reloadable metro card.  The twins I live with have learned my name, call me "Alyssa didi" (didi is the term for big sister), and want to play daily.  I have a limited Hindi vocabulary, but it is much more than what I started with. The biggest smile broke across my face this week as an indescribable feeling of independence rushed through me: I was able to take a tuk-tuk to a popular stop, not find what I was looking for, walk around a while in a neighboring market until I found that shop, then get home...never once feeling lost, and all safely by myself.  I am now the old seasoned volunteer, helping the new ones out and explaining how things work.

     This week passed fairly quickly in a surgical placement at Ghai Hospital. I was able to see a cesarean section (my 4th one), the removal of 2 tumors from a woman's ankle, 2 laparoscopic cholecystectomies (my 2nd and 3rd ones), and check up on all of the hospital's patients.  Today, Caleb and I were able to talk with the doctor about health care and sanitary practices in India, which was interesting to learn about.  The doctors here don't use gloves unless they are touching a bad wound, coming in contact with blood, or performing surgery. In my surgery shadowing, I was happy to see sterile practices used for the equipment, but a few things still surprised me: the surgeon and his assistants were the only ones wearing scrubs ( just for the surgery, then they changed), the anesthetist commonly answered his cell phone during the procedure, if someone wasn't actively involved in the surgery they didnt need to have their hair covered or a mask on, and to enter the operating room you have to remove your shoes and put on flip-flops! Hand sanitizer is not something used at all by any of the staff.  When the hospital gets a tuberculosis patient, there is no separate ward for the patient or any special practices used to protect the physicians treating him/her.  India has government-run hospitals that treat the poor for free, but those hospitals do not always have properly-trained staff, and someone could be on the waiting list for 3 months just for an ultrasound. The hospital we were placed in is a private hospital that has 40 beds and charges prices typically paid by the middle class.  There are also larger private hospitals with even better physicians that are more costly and typically serve the upper class.

    There is much excitement among us volunteers, because Holi is this Monday! Holi is the Hindu festival of colors. It is held around the spring equinox to celebrate the victory of good over evil, and is a day to forgive any animosity in your relationships and make up and be happy. It is celebrated by a Holika bonfire the evening before, followed by the day of Holi where people throw colored powders and spray each other with colored water so that everyone is a giant rainbow mess.  If any of you have heard of or done a Color Run, this is where that comes from.  A few of us volunteers are going to a party being held in a farm house in New Delhi that is supposed to have many foreigners and expats in attendance.  There will be food, music, and of course color play.    

     I will post another entry after Holi to talk about all of the holiday shenanigans.

     And now....on to my last 10 weeks in India!

Much love,
Alyssa

Friday, March 7, 2014

Week 9: Kashmir-the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

     Alternate titles for this entry could be: "The 6 Days of Travel for 2 Days of Activity" or "OMG It's Freaking Cold Up Here" or "What the Hell More Could Possibly Go Wrong?" or "Alyssa Sucks at Skiing" or even "Bro, Secure Your Chickens."  But I went with "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" because of the bits of good fun and hilarity hidden between aggravation and bad luck.
     I don't even know where to begin with this trip. Nothing went right, starting from the first tuk-tuk we hailed to bring us to the metro. So I suppose I will begin at that point on Friday night.  We left the house Friday around 6pm to take the metro into Delhi, eat dinner, then catch out 11:45pm train up to Jammu. We all piled into the first tuk-tuk, drove along for a little while, then all of a sudden he pulled over and made us get out. We were told to get into a different tuk-tuk, which was odd but hey we didnt have to pay any more so it was alright. After this one drove for a little while, he pulled over and made us get into yet another one! Slight annoyance, but no harm done. It had been raining in Faridabad, so we had to drive through quite a bit of flooded road....which splashed water up into the engine and stopped this new new tuk-tuk. The driver managed to get us out though, and we eventually reached the metro.  We check what lines we need, get on the metro...then are told to get off at the next stop because they are closing that one down for the day.  So we walk out of the station, back around, and get on the next one going where we needed it to. Dinner was at a Mexican restaurant in Khan Market, then we had the BEST dessert ever at an ice cream shop and bakery down the road. We got back on the metro and made it to the train without complication, then off we went!
     For the 3 of us girls, the 14-hour train ride was boring and long, but otherwise fine. For Sam, though, it was a lot worse. His shoes were stolen at some point during the trip, causing him to walk barefoot on the train and slip in vomit on the way to the bathroom. He had to borrow my shoes and awkwardly walk half in them to the bathroom once I came down to his compartment to see how things were going and hear about the theft.  The train dumped us in Jammu mid-afternoon Saturday, where we excitedly bounced over to the bus stand to start the next leg of our journey: the short trek up to Srinagar. The excitement was short-lived though as we soon discovered this "short" trek to Srinagar would be about 9 hours by taxi or about 12 by public bus.  We determined we didnt mind arriving in the wee hours of the morning, but even the idea of getting to Srinagar late was shot down upon being informed that traffic only goes one way each day! And of course today just happened to be the day that traffic LEFT Srinagar to come to Jammu, forcing us into a hotel for the night. We went on the hunt for a room and settled on a lovely hotel with the building still under construction, paint peeling off the walls, and water that randomly turned on in the middle of the night. We dumped our bags, Sam found some "best quality" cheap sandals, then we walked to an internet cafe to contact our other smarter friends who flew in the morning before to let them know we would be delayed.
     The next morning, we were up at 4:30am to catch our arranged 5am taxi. We get in the lobby and wait...and wait... until a family of 7 comes down around 5:30 telling us they are also riding in the taxi to Srinagar. Great.  We get fed up of waiting and start worrying about the fact that not everyone and their luggage will fit in this taxi, so we stop the next one that comes by who agrees to take us for 800 rupees a piece.  Of course to actually be on our way at this point would be too optimistic.  The taxi driver asks us if we can take on more passengers, so we agree that yes these 2 men in question are able to ride in the front seat because we are nice and it doesnt affect how much room we have in the back.  The driver stops at a hotel to pick the guy up, who has about 10 boxes of chickens! He tries to load them in the backseat/trunk space with Samantha but we say hell no to that and the chickens end up secured to the roof after much maneuvering. Finally the car gets on its way, but we are stopped by traffic only a few kilometers in. Seems everyone wants to get up North.  This driving for a few kilometers then stopping for 15 minutes continued throughout the trip, though the stops got less frequent the farther North we traveled.  The scenery was second to none: gorgeous green mountains with valleys and rivers appeared, followed by the enormous snowy mountains and white-coated pine trees reminding you of a winter wonderland.  It would have been nice to relax and enjoy this first glimpse of the Himalayas, but that was rather difficult due to the fact our driver had a bad case of road rage and decided that a great time to get stoned was while  speeding around sharp mountainous turns and overtaking cars on the narrow road.  Our only source of amusement were the road signs:  Border Roads Organization (BRO) had posted multiple signs warning against speeding and reminding drivers of safety. Every sign started with BRO then had on it a saying such as "Speed Thrills but Kills" "Speed is a Knife That Takes a Life" "Peep Peep Don't Sleep" "Drink Whisky Drive Risky" etc. We thought it was way too hilarious to read the signs by emphasizing Bro, then continuing in our best cheesy slogan voice.  What turned out to be the opposite of amusing was the fact that stoned driver decided to try and renegotiate the price of the taxi multiple times throughout the trip. He tried pleading the case that there were empty seats and we needed to pay 5,000 rupees rather than the 3200 that was agreed upon, and even went so far as to start crying and pull over in a traffic jam to have some young (and super attractive, by the way) guys come try and translate for him.  Obviously we did not back down. 13 hours later, we rejoiced at our arrival in Srinagar and set off for the next task: getting another taxi up to Gulmarg. This same taxi driver offered to drive us to Gulmarg but we very emphatically declined. After trying to find a bus up there and being told none were running, we went price hunting for a taxi and were informed that we could get a taxi to Tanmarg but not quite all the way to Gulmarg since we needed a taxi with chains on the wheels to get up the mountain. Discouraged and annoyed that we STILL wouldnt be able to get to Gulmarg, we found a reasonable taxi to Tanmarg then tried to find a hotel for the night.  In a huge stroke of luck, though, as we were walking to check the prices at one hotel, we found a taxi driver who said he could take us up to Gulmarg right then! So off we went up the snowy mountain and finally arrived in the little ski village. In another stroke of luck, we happened to pass a Canadian Heliski employee who recommended a good affordable hotel, which happened to be the same hotel our friends were staying in! However, this hotel had no central heat, the space heater only worked every now and then for a few minutes at a time, and the stove heater in the room was useless since the staff couldnt make a fire. The fire-making attempt was actually entertainment in itself: the staff (who we are pretty sure smoked weed if not participated in other recreational drugs) literally just doused large logs in kerosene inside the stove then lit it. No kindling at all. And when that burned out, they just put in more kerosene. The pipe that went into the wall to take the smoke out was evidently blocked since the room got super smoky. So we were left with burning eyes and a room just as cold as it was before the fire-making attempt.  Luckily, we had an electric blanket on the bed, so when all 4 of us squished into the one queen-sized bed to sleep, the 2 in the middle actually ended up sweating during the night.


     We awoke Monday morning excited to actually experience Kashmir and do what we came to do: ski! After breakfast at the hotel restaurant (they actually had some breakfast food, surprisingly) the 7 of us headed over to the mountain to rent ski gear and start the day.  Morgan, Samantha, Abi, and I stayed at the beginners teaching hill, but the 3 boys went over to the ski lift/gondola to go up to the big slopes.  Skiing is definitely different.  Its not so terrible when the hill isnt steep because you can stop fairly easily and keep some control. Samantha and I didnt do too terribly, but Morgan decided she was done after once down the hill since she couldnt stop and wasnt very interested in skiing in the first place. Morgan went up to join Abi (who didnt want to ski again), and Samantha and I went down the hill a few more times, starting higher and higher each time until we did it from the very top. Then we went zorbing! They had one zorb ball at the end of the hill, so we asked about the price then decided we definitely wanted to do it. They dragged the ball to the top of the hill, strapped us in, then down we went! It was a lot of fun.  We decided then that we were done with our little skiing excursion and went to meet everyone for lunch at the top of the first lift. After lunch, the boys went up again but us girls took the gondola/lift back down with 2 Kashmiri guys who were singing and dancing and rocking it back and forth. The walk back to the hotel seemed to never end, and it was snowing so hard the entire time. We finally made it though, warmed up, waited for the boys, then we all had dinner at the hotel restaurant again. It was quite a trial finding something to eat since almost everything on the menu was not available. They didnt have any of the Kashmiri dishes, they couldnt make any of the meals with meat, and they had no cheese. Only a few breakfast items, some soups, and some of the Chinese dishes were able to be ordered.



     Tuesday came, and Sam and I got up to ski but Morgan and Samantha decided to stay in bed. I was going to stay in bed too, but Sam convinced me the day before that even though I wasnt very good he could definitely teach me. I hate giving up on things and was excited at the idea of getting better at skiing. The morning started out great, with a delicious breakfast at a local restaurant where we got fried eggs on Kashmiri bread. We headed over to the ski rental, got our gear, and I felt pretty good. That was, of course, until we got to the top of the lift and I realized what a horrible idea it was. The mountain wasnt too steep at this part, but it was way too steep for a beginner with the grace of a broken-winged butterfly.  For every thing I got right, I crashed and burned to even it out. I managed to turn and stop a few times, but I also managed to fall and be unable to pull myself up. It was awful.  Snow got into everything. I realized exactly how little arm and leg strength I have, especially in my left knee. Sam was a great teacher, I just could not make my legs move how I needed them too. After my 10th fall and us only being a few feet down the mountain, I had to give up. My limbs were like jelly, I was upset, and I was holding him back from actually being able to ski. I hired one of the guys with sleds to take me down the rest of the way, which was almost as miserable and not something worth writing about. I returned my skis, got my shoes back, and started on the walk back to the hotel freezing my butt off. When I got back to the room, I had to completely change because EVERYTHING was cold and soaked all the way through: all 4 shirts, both pairs of leggings, jeans, and the undergarments. It was so incredibly cold and took me so long to warm up again. Us girls cuddled in bed for warmth and waited for Sam to get back, then went out in the little village to check out the shops and walk around. We ended up finding one where I got a few gifts for people, but there wasnt very much in the area so we walked back to the hotel and built a snowman! He was awesome and we were quite proud of our little Lumpy. For dinner, we went back to that same restaurant Sam and I ate at for breakfast, then went to find an internet cafe so we could get new train tickets back home. We should have left that morning to make it in time for our original train, but there was 10 inches of snow making it unsafe to go down the mountain and we only had one day in Kashmir so all the travel wouldnt have been worth it.


     Wednesday we did have to leave though, but the trip back went much smoother than the trip up. Well, after we got down the mountain and after the check out fiasco. My phone somehow disappeared between when we left the room to walk down to the lobby and when I walked back up to the room to get it. After tearing the room apart I figured I may have just packed it without realizing, but later that turned out not to be the case.  The hotel owner also decided to put some of the food from the other room on our tab, which took more arguing for him to realize we were not responsible for their food and its the hotel's fault for not charging them correctly. We decided to take the public bus to Tanmarg to save money, but it was a little sketchy as to whether the bus would make it or not.  It got stuck multiple times in slippery snowy holes, and when it moved over bumpy areas (basically everywhere on the mountain) it rocked back and forth and bounced so badly. But we did make it to Tanmarg and got a bus no problem from Tanmarg to Srinagar.  Now, our original plan was to find a bus in Srinagar that went down to Jammu. But when stopping in Srinagar, we realized we got off at a stop we didnt want to and were not sure how to get to the tourist stop with all the taxis and buses. Since we were at a bus stand, we figured we would find our way from there and ask around. A seemingly nice guy told us we could hop on a certain small bus with him and it would take us to the pantha chowk bus stand which is where he said we wanted to go. So we did. An hour later we get off at this stop and realize yet again it was not where we wanted to go. This man asked what we needed and we told him we wanted to get to Jammu, so then he told us he knew of another bus we could get on to go to the railway station to get past the one way tunnel to go to Jammu.  Suddenly, as we are talking and walking past a crowd of men, the men start yelling at him and it seems like there is going to be a fight! We just backed away and kind of looked at each other.  The man pushes past them so we follow, but one of the men from the crowd stops us saying "Do not go with this man! He will kill you! He kills people!" .... We quit that plan, and luckily an actually-nice man from the bus who was chatting with me sees me and comes over.  I tell him we want to get to Jammu and he tells us we need to leave now so we can get past the one way tunnel since tomorrow traffic will be opposite and coming towards Srinagar.  We follow him over to a taxi, who charges us 200 rupees less a piece to get to Jammu.  We get in, play some human tetris to get comfortable, then off we went on the agonizing drive through the twists and turns.  This trip, though, we were actually able to relax and enjoy the view since our driver was very good and not on drugs.  Since we left late in the afternoon, almost no one was on the road. so the trip ended up actually taking the estimated 9 hours rather than 13, placing us in Jammu at 1am. Which meant we had to get a hotel...ugh.  The tuk-tuk driver who picked us up from where the taxi dropped us off took us to our old hotel, but they didnt have rooms. We walked next door but the tuk-tuk driver followed us in and started talking to the men at the desk who then gave us a ridiculous price for the room.  The tuk-tuk driver was just trying to make a cut of the money because he brought us here, so we yelled goodbye at him and told him to leave as we walked to the next hotel, who also charged too much.  The driver was still waiting outside when we went to walk to the next hotel that was around the corner, so we told him again to leave and he finally drove off...around the corner. We saw him walking out of the hotel we were about to go to as soon as we rounded the corner so we just turned around and went back, hoping to find more in a different direction.  About that time, a different driver passed us who said he knew a good hotel for 700 rupees so we got in with him and agreed that we would only pay him to take us there if the room was actually 700 like he said.  And it wasnt. But we were able to argue until it became 700, much to the driver's dismay.  As soon as we reached the hotel room, I removed everything from my bags to try and find my phone, but it wasnt there. That's when I remembered: I had put one of my scarves under the covers to warm it up before we left, but I forgot to grab it when we walked to the lobby to check out. And when I went back up to get my phone, we tore the bed apart and neither the scarf nor the phone was there.  So between leaving the room and walking back up, a staff member must have taken them both. I have quite a few names to call them, but none appropriate to write here.
     Thursday saw a leisurely morning, an adventure to find wifi to change our train tickets (again) so we could leave before midnight, then lunch at a pizza place.  I am never having pizza from a restaurant here again...my stomach was dying as we waited for the train.  But the train arrived on time, got to Delhi on time, and we made it back to the house 8:30am Friday morning after a week of travel.

I am quite excited for the calm weekend approaching.

Much love,
Alyssa

Monday, February 24, 2014

Week 7: In Sickness and in Health

     Week 7 began in my beloved slum clinic, where there was a lot of the same and I saw another ear repair. But come Wednesday I was at a different event: the blood drive. On Wednesday, Samantha was sick so Jess and I were dropped off at a bank in Faridabad to watch and learn. We started out at the front table where 2 assistants were blood typing, checking hemoglobin, checking weight, and taking blood pressure. We were able to do a few blood pressures and some blood typing as well. For those of you unfamiliar with the process of finding one's blood type: we first pricked the person's finger then got 3 drops of blood onto a clear glass plate. We dropped anti-A on the first drop, anti-B on the second, then anti-D on the third. The first 2 drops denote the blood type based on if parts of the drop congeal together, and the third denotes Rh factor (+ or -) based on the same visual. We checked hemoglobin the old-fashioned way: dropping blood into a beaker of copper sulfate solution to see if it sank or float. Blood pressure was taken old-fashioned too, with an ancient tool using millimeters of mercury. After being at the table a little while, we were offered to come back into a room where they were actually giving the blood. The needles used here are HUGE! Even if my iron was high enough and I wouldn't pass out, I would be absolutely terrified to have that in my arm. On the plus side, the bags fill faster, so more people can cycle through. Thursday, the 3 of us were driven by Dr. Prabhat to a college campus in a neighboring town where the blood drive was taking place and where he was the medical overseer for the day.  We were able to watch a few more sticks, then he let me try one! Unfortunately I did not get blood at first, but the phlebotomist came in and adjusted the needle, and the man was fine. No harm done, but it was still embarrassing and they did not let me try again.  On Friday, Jess and Samantha went to Rishikesh, so it was just me and I went back to the clinic. I guess they were too afraid I would try and stick someone's arm again :P  At least at the clinic I get redemption, because I do all the intravenous injections and those go just fine.






     Saturday held all the promises of gorging myself on delicious food at Cafe Parmesan....until I woke up horribly nauseous. I didnt want breakfast, and the nausea had subsided enough to still make it to lunch with Sam and Morgan. I managed to slowly consume a small slice of veggie pizza, then promptly made my way to the bathroom where I threw it back up.  I thought I would be fine then, so we all went to the grocery store to get a few things. I was waiting in line when suddenly I had to drop my bananas and toothpaste and run outside to throw up again in a sewage ditch. We made it home, where I hoped a nap would have me feeling better. I knew eating a full dinner was too optimistic so I opted for just a chapati (a wheat flour tortilla we eat with most meals). Halfway through that, I just couldnt eat anymore. Then after a few steps into the bedroom, I had to quicken my pace and run to the bathroom where I then threw that up too!
     Sunday, I was fine. I have absolutely no idea what caused my stomach to reject all food for a day, but at least it is gone and I am back to normal.

     Hoping for a full healthy week!

Much love,
Alyssa

Monday, February 17, 2014

Week 6: Food, Glorious Food

     Last blog entry left off right before the weekend after my first 2 days at the small clinic.  That weekend, Morgan, Sam, and I went to the SurajKund International Crafts Mela in a nerby city called Gurgaon.  It was enormous, and packed with people! The crafts mela consists of booths of merchants from places all over India who come together to put on a 15-day fair and sell their items. There was furniture, tapestries, wooden figurines, pottery, jewelry, purses, food...you name it. I did not buy anythign since it was expensive for India prices, but it was still really cool to walk around and see.


      I was at the same small clinic every day this past week!    At the clinic I just give injections, take blood pressure, listen to lungs, and do a lot of sitting. But I don’t  mind the waiting or the monotony because I have the chance to do something hands-on and can watch and learn as well.   .
    Sector 49 and the rest of Faridabad are becoming quite familiar, and familarity is comforting.  Just in the area surrounding the clinic, people are starting to know me a bit and wave when I arrive. The man who owns the sweet shop across the street will let me try something he made that day, and the doctor always has a smile when I arrive.  Getting around town is becoming easier too: I know when I am being overcharged by a tuk-tuk driver so I can say no and move to the next one, and I know how to get to a few places the cheapest way by taking the public tuk-tuks to major stops. I feel more like a local than a stranger, although the stares and the language barrier like to keep reminding me otherwise.
     This weekend was also one of the most fun I’ve had while still remaining in Faridabad.  Friday was Valentine’s Day, which was a bit rough at first considering my current romantic life, but ended up being a ton of fun.  I went to a place in Sector 15 called Parmesan Cafe with Morgan, Sam, and Jess.  And oh did we feast! Morgan and I started off by splitting cheesy garlic bread, then we also split a double cheese pizza. 3 of us ordered belgian chocolate milkshakes, and it was one of the best milkshakes I’ve ever had. Then we all got dessert: I ordered a rather disappointing cheesecake and the other 3 each got a dessert waffle with ice cream on top.  Saturday was pretty uneventful other than finally watching Frozen. We had to watch it in 3 parts though since the movie would only buffer to a certain point then we would have to wait for more to load before continuing to watch it.  Sunday was another glorious food day since we got up and made a Western breakfast for the family! We had pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns, and they were so good! The little twins didnt like the pancakes (blasphemy, right?) but they loved the hashbrowns and our host parents enjoyed it all as well.   After breakfast we watched the Princess and the Frog since we were on a Disney kick, which was also quite a cute movie. 


     And to top things off, the fun carried into today (Monday) because I GOT A CARE PACKAGE! Mandi is the best! She sent me a box loaded with Cheez Its, Fudge Stripe Cookies, Chips Deluxe cookies, Cheetos, Skittles, Propel packets, dry shampoo, tampons, Love Actually DVD, and a pink hedgehog mug, all sitting in adorable heart confetti with little notes on everything :D  It made my day and probably my week.    

The rest of the week is looking to be good, and we will see where my adventures take me next.

Much love,

Alyssa

Friday, February 7, 2014

Small Clinic, Big Heart

     The last 2 days of my placement this week were absolutely fantastic. I didn't get to do too much, and I didn't see any more cool surgery. But I got to do what I am happiest doing: work in a clinic helping the under-served. 
     The clinic is located in the same slum area where we set up the free clinic my first week after orientation.  Calling this building a clinic is a tad optimistic: it is a single room, with an alcove curtained off to hide an examination bed. The doctor was not particularly friendly but neither was he mean. This lack of speaking was mostly (if not all) due to the language barrier, so we communicated a lot through motions and single words.   The doctor let us take the blood pressure of all of the adult patients, and listen to the lungs of the patients that complained of a cough.  We were also able to give injections: Courtney gave one intravenously yesterday while I gave one intramuscularly today.  A woman came in today with a splitting nail, so he let us dress that as well.  The doctor had a certain procedure he followed with every patient: first he would see them and get some vitals, then he would write a prescription down on a small piece of paper for them to take across the road to the small pharmacy. The patient then brought back the required medication, the doctor crushed up vitamins and pills then separated the powder, then the patient paid and left.  We found out later from our driver that the doctor sees and treats patients for 20% of the typical charge! We discussed a lot about why he would do that; why would someone who has spent all that money going through medical training choose to come to a slum and make next to nothing. He may have a few shifts at a hospital elsewhere to make money, or family and a desire to help his community may have brought him back....but whatever the reason, he has gained my utmost respect.
     I am hoping to return here for the next few weeks and get some more hands on experience. Dr. Prabhat said I could because I loved it so much.  But I never know until I get in the car what the day will hold.


Much love,
Alyssa  

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Cholecystectomy and a Solo Tuk-Tuk Adventure

**DISCLAIMER: While I do work in a medical field, I am not familiar with surgical terms. Please be understanding if my descriptions of things seem a bit simple because I don't know the actual name and that's all I can do to give you an idea of what things look like**

This week I have been in a surgery observation placement at Ghai Hopsital.  It is a very small hospital with a mere 40 beds, and when they do a surgery they call in a surgeon from Delhi.  There are only a few patients currently in the hospital: one being treated for pneumonia, one who came in yesterday for something I couldn't quite hear, one who is soon to be discharged, and one who is recovering from her Monday cholecystectomy.  Both yesterday and today proved very uneventful, and we spent the whole time there just sitting and talking since there was nothing to see or do. Monday, however, I felt silly for how excited I was.  I realize that gallbladder removal is not an exciting surgery, but it was only the second one I have ever seen (the first being that C-section) so I took it all in with a smile.  The surgery was laparoscopic, which means they went in with small tools and had everything magnified up on a TV screen rather than cutting the body open and leaving it exposed.  There were 4 main people: the anesthesiologist, the head surgeon, the surgical assistant, and another assistant who didnt understand enough English to give me his job title.  The body was punctured in 3 places so various instruments could be inserted.  The magnifier/light/camera went into one, then tubes where the tools could enter and exit were placed in the other ones.  The surgeon mainly used a claw-like tool to hold the gallbladder away as he worked, one tool for cauterizing, and one for cutting.  The surgeon had to hold the gallbladder away as he cut through membranes and cauterized small vessels in order to clear the way to reach the cystic duct and cystic artery.  He used a clamping tool to put these little metal clamps on the cystic artery close to the gallbladder, then more little clamps farther down closer to the aorta, before cutting between the 2 areas. He then did the same process to the cystic duct to free the gallbladder, and pulled it out through one of the holes with one of the tools.  It was so weird seeing this small organ just dragged out of a hole in a body.  The surgery was really cool to watch though because we could see everything up on the screen and had a good view no matter where we stood.  The surgeon was nice about telling us what he was doing and why every now and then, and also pointing out the different things in the body we could see in that cavity.





     To make the day even better, we walked down to the previously-discovered gym and got our first workout in! Yay treadmill! Membership is 1500 rupees a month for 2 people signing up together, so it came out to 750 rupees each (about $12.50).
     As if the surgery excitement wasnt enough, on Tuesday I went to Sector 15 market to meet up with Morgan to try and get bus tickets for a trip to Dharamsala. I opted to just pay a driver to take me straight there, figuring I could do the longer but cheaper way home. I got there no problem, discussed travel with Morgan, then decided to walk a little ways to a place where tuk-tuks usually stop in order to catch the first part of my trip home. The plan was simple, and one Sam and I usually do: get a tuk-tuk from Crown Plaza to Metro Mall, then one from Metro Mall to home. Easy peasy. Well, on my way to Crown Plaza, a tuk-tuk passed me. I couldnt believe my luck that I could save some walking. I told him Metro Mall, he said yes, then we were off. He ended up stopping for directions after a while, then took me to some giant mall called Mall of Manhattan that i had never been to before. I told him this wasnt it, so he tried to find more directions but it was clear he had no clue so I just decided to find another one. I was headed the wrong direction (I thought) so had to walk a little ways down the road in order to find a hole in the fenced median to then cross the road.  After battling terrifying traffic, I found a tuk-tuk on the other side who said he knew where Metro Mall was, and hopped in. In talking with the other passengers, the driver discovered that Metro Mall was actually in the opposite direction.... So I got out, crossed the road through traffic again, and found yet another tuk-tuk to take me to Metro Mall. I got there finally, and getting from Metro Mall to home was thankfully simple after that. Since the trip home took a ridiculous hour and a half, I missed my gym window :( It doesnt open until 5 and we have to go right at 5 in order to be back before dark.

Wednesday was much less eventful, with the only noteworthy event being the removal of the drainage tube from the recovering patient. And I went to the gym this evening.

 I guess I will finish out surgery this week and see what my next week holds! I keep being told I'm going back to gynecology but it hasnt happened in 2 weeks... Oh well.

Much love,
Alyssa

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Week 4: Homesickness, Reflection, and Perspective.

     I've never felt homesickness before. I've been to multiple camps for a week or 2 at a time, I've been to 2 other mission trips in another country, and hell I've spent 3.5 years away from home at college.  But it's not about being away from your family, because you still have friends who you love as family. And its not about being away from almost everyone for a week, because you know you're returning in a few days and life will go back to normal.
I've been away from EVERYTHING I know for a month now. 4 weeks of a complete lack of familiarity. No hugs from the best friends, no silly inside jokes, not going to favorite spots with favorite people.  Yes I have made friends, but this is not my life with the friends i've grown so close to and the boyfriend I was starting to fall pretty hard for. I've been aching for the people I love and the places I know and the job I was working, and the...rightness of everything. But I am only 1/5-20%- done. Home isn't even something to get excited for yet because it is still 4 months away.  In a way it makes things easier, since the logical part of my brain acknowledges most of the time that if I get sad now I will just be miserable. But in a way, it is also a bit overwhelming thinking of how many days are still left.

     Despite that, I don't regret coming. If anything, I regret not applying for 2 different programs and splitting my time so I could live in 2 different countries for a while. I've already learned and discovered and felt so much here.  The culture is very different, and I am still discovering new things the more time passes. Nothing shocked me about the living conditions: I expected an abundance of garbage, mud, dust, and poverty. And I guess nothing particularly shocked me about anything else either, it is just different. The procedure for using the bathroom is different, squat toilets are different, having to pay to use a public toilet is different, being stared at is different, everyone thinking its okay to skip in line is different, women being less important is different, tuk-tuks are different, the food is different, the common religions are different, cows and dogs and pigs roaming around everywhere is different, seeing monkeys is different, and being a minority is different.  Some of the horrible stereotypes are true: since being here, we have seen multiple news stories of gang rapes; it is something way too common for comfort. Little boys have tried touching our butts. If I am with a male and we meet another male, the male we meet will talk to the friend and might not speak to me. But I have met some very nice people and some more "progressive" thinkers that are trying to break the bad stereotypes. We stayed with a family for orientation week where the wife does as she pleases and is working on opening her own business; she said in the past she had to ask the in-laws and her husband to do anything, but now she just hops in the car and goes. I have yet to be groped on the metro or in a crowd-something I was worried about.  I was squished in a tuk-tuk with 7 men (one being another volunteer, who was sitting across and down a little from me) and the man next to me kept asking if the volunteer wanted to switch with him so I would feel more comfortable. We were in Riskikesh and had to meet a taxi at 4am, so the waiter at the restaurant we frequented said he was too worried about us being alone in the dark and would walk us safely to our taxi. This doesnt mean there is nothing wrong with the country and that I shouldnt still be on my guard.  But there is a lot of kindness here. And it does make me feel good that things seem to be changing for the better, at least in the area I am in.

     I wrote in an entry recently about how I feel useless since I dont get to do much.  I still feel useless, but not as pessimistic. Dr. Prabhat had a conversation with us last week about how volunteers in the past have been really terrible and ruined a lot of opportunities for future volunteers with their sense of entitlement, complaining, and not learning from the doctors.  Many of the doctors in the medical facilities IVHQ is partnered with don't make it a point to jump right in and give the volunteers opportunities. Rather, they want the volunteers to prove their willingness to learn by being there and being patient and waiting. So when I had to just sit in gynecology, it was because the gynecologist didnt trust me and wanted to find out if I was really there to learn or not. In contrast, I spent a few days in the eye hospital with an optometrist and he was fantastic from the start about telling us what he was looking for in each of the tests, how he fitted them for glasses, how to tell if they have had cataract surgery, what a cataract looks like, and he even gave us an anatomy lesson for the eye when we had a long break from patients (stuff I knew, but a gesture I appreciated).  So I am trying to look at things different and not mind the waiting as bad. I go back to gynecology for the next few weeks, and I plan on trying to get more involved and show them I am worthy of teaching.

Much love,
Alyssa