Mumbia, India (Bombay)(Personal)
Yellow Fever shots have not been mentioned so far. We aren’t asking.
The medical department has been going crazy. Even Wayne (one of the nurse’s husband) and I have been enlisted. And as the department gets busier and busier, the rumors abound. I just went upstairs for a cup of tea and was asked by the hairdressers if 7 people have actually died. I think I disappointed them when I said “only two”, and they knew about each of them. There have also been some very seriously ill people and they caused quite a bit of lost sleep for Carter and the crew. Luckily, the patients survived, even getting somewhat better, and were taken to hospital here in Mumbia. Holland America has sent another nurse to the ship to help out, thank goodness.
Our morning started with a phone call from immigration at 5:45AM requesting that Carter go down to one of the lounges to sign more paperwork and answer multiple questions posed by the officials. We had been forewarned that the summons might come early, so we were up by 5:30. It was amazing that it took so many officials to do the questioning and then each paper Carter signed had to be made with 6 copies and then inspected by another official, then stamped with an official stamp by another, then inspected by another. It was almost comical. Carter says we can thank the British for all this paperwork, just that it hasn’t changed since 1850. No Xerox here.
We were able to get a little breakfast before the next call which said the ambulance was here to take our patient. Carter had agreed to go with the patient and spouse since they were VERY weary of getting disembarked in India. Somehow or other, I was included in the transfer, which was fine with me. I was curious. Again the Indian authorities required that all passports and people be matched, along with a “landing card” which also had to be stamped, and since these people couldn’t get up to the officials, I became the messenger. By the time I had taken care of this, the crew member and passenger had been disembarked and were in their ambulances. I dashed out, handing off documents here and there and hopped in the ambulance with Carter.
Now this ambulance was something to see. There was a tank of oxygen, the gurney with the patient and a bench which the patient’s spouse, Carter, a non-English speaking assistant to someone, and I were sitting on. Other than the oxygen, it could have been a hearse. Carter was glad the patient was doing better….We did have some oxygen and IV ports available, but nothing else. Sort of scary!
At 7am on a Sunday morning, Mumbai is quiet. The air was polluted and grey, but the traffic was manageable. It took about 20 minutes until we arrived at the hospital. The poor spouse was instantly stopped, while the patient was taken upstairs with Carter. There were huge discussions among the 6 people behind the counter and finally a deposit/bill was presented for 50,000 rupis. At first the spouse balked, but I said, “divide by 35-40” and the response was a sigh. Then there was a discussion on the cost of the ambulance and after about 20 minutes the bill was presented: $8.00 equivalent.
Once in the room it was amazing how long it took just to get vitals. Usually in an ER it is finished with minutes of admission. Here it took about an hour for just the BP, temp, pulse and oxygen level. All of the items to take these measurements had to be brought into the room individually. There must not be enough to put one is each room. The one thing that did arrive instantly was the breakfast. Since the patient was essentially NPO (nothing by mouth), this was a disappointment. In general the hospital was exceptionally clean and the nurses were very attentive.
The port agent and his assistant were there and were supposed to be arranging for a hotel for the spouse. They hemmed and hawed, discussing this and that until the head nurse arrived. She understood the problem, got on the phone, made a reservation at a hotel within walking distance and even got a confirmation code. The port agent was still trying to figure out which hotel to call. I had to chuckle.
Finally the doctor arrived, the patient was assessed, Carter gave his spiel, and things began to happen. The most reassuring thing was that there was another doctor, a woman, who was hired by the cruise line to facilitate. She was wonderful and instantly took command of the situation. Her English was excellent, her medical knowledge was up to date and she was able to assist both the patient and the spouse. I was impressed. We felt the patient and spouse were being left in capable hands.
Then the port agent, his assistant, Carter and I piled into a mini-cab. I only wish I could have had a photo of Carter trying to bend his body so that his head would fit in the cab. Of course, he was relegated to the middle seat in the back and honestly, the space between the front and back seat is measured in centimeters. It was tight for me. The cab didn’t have the best door latches and each time we went around a corner, the doors on my side of the car would open if you were leaning on them. I scooted closer to Carter who was already cramped – so I wasn’t in good graces. The red light for the temperature was on in the cab, plus the horn must have been smashed so many times that it was sunken into the steering wheel. He had an auxiliary horn, which he used excessively. Of course the windows were open the entire trip and these cars drive very close to each other. At one point there was a horrible coughing fit and I thought it was from the guy on the other side of Carter. It was from the passenger in the cab next to us! I just closed my eyes most of the trip because the traffic rules are so different and I don’t do well with near misses.
We are going out to dinner later tonight. I have my Tums ready.
Labels: Personal
posted by Hills @ 8:36 AM
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