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Published: April 14th 2010
Hospital No. 1
This is the first stop we went to via the kindness of a neighbour who drove me and my NGO supervisor Sarita - unfortunately they only dealt with cardiac patients and we had to order an ambulance to another hospital. OR.... A funny thing happened to me on my way back from the FRO:
So what did your mummy tell you about crossing the road? I’m sure it involved being a lot more mindful and careful than my practice around 2pm on April the 13th outside my place at Salashree Vihar in Bhubaneswar, Odisha (Orissa), India.
So… I had just returned from a futile trip to the Foreign Registration Office (part of the Deputy Commissioner of Police Office) trying to collect my Residency Permit. “It’ll be ready - for sure - on Tuesday”, said the nice man last Friday. Ah - but come Tuesday “it’s not yet signed” says he - come back Friday!
I caught the usual number of share auto rickshaws back home (3 to be sure - it’s a matter of hopping from one crossroad to another unless you happen to strike it lucky and get aboard one that happens to be going ALL the way). It had to be at least 40 degrees C and a tad hot to have 7 crammed aboard vehicles that are really only designed to seat 4.
But I digress. I got off across the road from home.
Waiting for the surgeon
Lying now in the final hospital casualty area - still bleeding down the back of my head - and skin lain back in place. This is not a major road so there are no line markings (not that line markings mean anything too much in India). It certainly is not a wide enough road to warrant a large bus doing the usual i.e. overtaking smaller vehicles willy nilly and applying the Indian road principle that says “If I am bigger than you - move over now!”. I know this principle - and I certainly understand by now that the pedestrian is the lowest of the low on the pecking order here.
But….. having seen the bus overtaking down the road - I hurried across the road and proceeded to walk on the edge of the road (rather than the hot dusty sand/dust besides the road) - facing the same way that the bus was traveling. It’s at this point that I was not being mindful at all! A truck approached (opposite direction to the bus) - seemingly with room to spare for me - but of course he veered towards me as the bus completed it’s over-take to avoid collision with said bus.
I got swiped by what I can only presume was the truck’s side mirror (can’t say I had much
Staples are for paper surely?
This is me after the staples were applied - so you miss out on the really gory shots where half my scalp was hanging down etc... Sorry! time to tell). Blood gushing - I applied my trusty Gumsha (sp?) - local variation of a very useful scarf - and after shouting after the truck who stopped for 10 secs down the road and then drove on!! - rushed inside (feeling slightly giddy and realizing that having one’s head bashed and cut open can be serious business indeed) to seek assistance from the office (which is attached at the front street).
The rest is now history - pics attached tell some of the story.
This was of course a big event! No sooner had I arrived at Casualty in a local private hospital (by Ambulance) with my NGO supervisor than her daughter, the 3 NGO office staff, and three staff from the community based orgs that I am working with - all turn up. Followed of course by calls from others who could not be there - then calls from VSO Delhi and AVI in Melbourne - and then 3 other VSO volunteers as well. Enough for a rock concert really!
I think I had three or four staples applied to get things back in place - then received about 6 local anesthetic needles in
Party anyone?
Here the cast of thousands who attended and self are all waiting while this otherwise seemingly efficient hospital argued about whether I could be placed in a "luxury" room given that all the "budget" rooms were full. I was by the way but it took about 20 mins - and not impressed having to sit around in a wheel chair for that long but hey - at least I had a seat! my head and a rather large pain-killer jab in the but before what I can only hope was a very competent surgeon (and he seemed competent enough from where I was lying) stitched me up. I ended up with 16 stitches and my first ever overnight stay in a hospital not counting when I was born (for observation understandably).
The plan was that someone “had” to stay the night in the room with me to make sure I was fine - I protested and had a very peaceful night alone (other than the world over practice of being woken by nursing staff at ungodly hours - asked if you are OK - and then told to try and get some sleep!!!!).
Anyway - managed to retain both arms and legs and other vital bits. Head will no doubt heal with a slight scar. Back home again now and all is well other than me feeling a tad sheepish about my lack of mindfulness in crossing the road (sorry mum!).
Just for those interested: the total cost of the treatment and overnight in the private hospital was around 12,000 rupees (about Aus$300). Of this - about 4,000 was
Back home again
Next day and back home with nothing to show but a new head dress and probably a scar - it's HOT and I only have fans - hm..... maybe I could feign concussion and get another night in the A/C luxury room! for the room itself - which apart from the ‘to be expected’ non-attention to small detail around plumbing and hooks and mats - was air conditioned, had a TV, and had decent meals supplied. Had a really good nights sleep as it turned out (probably drug induced to some extent I expect).
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Mark Takefman
non-member comment
Are you sure they put everything back in?
Paul, glad to know that in the end you will live to drive to the mountains later this year. Now pay attention!