Checking in at the Hospital (Friday, 9/26)

The next morning we wake up, head downstairs for some breakfast, and then back up to the room to pack our things. A little bit later and we are ready to go downstairs to meet the next driver. As soon as we leave the room, no one will let us carry any of our bags. They all insist on “serving us” whether we like it or not. From the room, to the car, to the hospital, to the hospital room, neither of us picks up any of our bags. Whatev. We get to the hospital room, start to settle in, figure out insurance, Grace undergoes a litany of tests, and then we go to meet with the surgeon. He explains the procedure and the benefits of hip resurfacing over a hip replacement (which are exensive). Grace is overjoyed that she will be able to walk freely again, and we head back to the room to get some sleep before the next day.

6:30 AM on Saturday morning, and Grace is getting rolled into surgery. I spend most of the morning hanging out in the room, waiting for her to get out. The doctor comes in to let me know she is out and doing well. A couple hours later and he comes in to let me know I can come down and see her in post-op. When I get there she is almost crying from joy and begging the doctor to do the other hip right away… clearly the epidural has not worn off yet and she has no idea how much this is going to hurt. I head back up to the room and a couple hours later they wheel her in. Her expression has changed significantly… it is clear that the anesthesia has worn off. I spend the next several hours getting her settled in and dealing with all the BS from the nurses. The thing about India is that there are so many people, labor is so cheap, and everyone needs a job, that they have three people doing the work of one. This all equates to a bizarre system where no one knows what anyone else is doing, and everyone wonders around doing their particular job without any kind of coordination with other people. There also seems to be a particular hierarchy that permeates all of Indian culture. In the hospital setting, the patient is at the bottom of this hierarchy, leading to a kind of respectful contempt which is clear in the actions of the nursing staff. If you say anything that disputes whatever it is that they are doing, they will politely acknowledge you, and then continue about whatever it was that they wanted to do in the first place. Combine this polite form of contempt with a certain amount of incompetence by some of the nursing staff, and Grace, who has 20+ years of medical experience, was about ready to kill some of the nurses.