Our first introduction to Apollo

We were picked up at the airport by a driver from our hotel. He had been waiting 3 hours for us w/ a sign held high with our names on it. Last time I was in India, the rickashaw ride from the airport was the most intensely memorable thing possible as an introduction to India. This time, I had air-con., a clean car, a porter for my luggage and slept most of the way -- weird!

hotel at night

The insurance company had also booked our accommodation at a 5 star hotel in the heart of Chennai. It was one of the nicest hotels in the city, so I felt quite glam walking into the lobby that first morning. Fresh squeezed juice as a welcome drink accompanied the check-in process, a lobby full of fresh flowers and natural light and a whole host of doorman, porters, lobby attendants, concierge, desk staff and finally room attendants ushered us along from car to room. WAS I REALLY IN INDIA???

Lobby of the hotel

We both took hot showers in the marble shower and enjoyed fresh robes and hot tea before we climbed into the bed to sleep for awhile before having our first appointment at the hospital.

We had a driver arranged for us the first day to allow us to "get used to" India and make our way around. (the rest of the time I used public rickashaws) However, as soon as I had a nap, I was ready for India-full force. The sights, smells, traffic, sounds, people, activity -- sensory overload -- is right up my alley. I love this country and was so glad to be there!

We were taken to the Apollo hospital and dropped off in the middle of the masses of people to make our way to our consultation appointment. Pat, with her arm in a backslab and sling, did not like the crowds or the hot weather. We did our best, but the first day was a big culture shock for her.

The orthopedist, Dr. Reddy, was expecting us. This man had trained in the UK and France, so he was quite the "modern" India man. His English was impeccable and quickly put Pat at ease (somehow she felt better: bc he could speak English well, he was a trustworthy surgeon in her mind). However, his whole entourage of staff, attendants, residents, and nurses are who we interacted with the most were quite the team. We quickly learned there is a different person for every task: one to do the registration, one to do the vital signs, one to do the paying, one to do the dressing change, one to do the inspection, one to do the ordering, one to do the paperwork...you get the gist. English wasn't used near as often as body language during any of those interactions, so with the multitude of people -- not to mention being whisked from one area of the hospital to another for each task -- we were quite confused as to how this system worked.

I loved it! It was a hardcore lesson in India's hospital culture, but Pat wasn't so comfortable. I was glad to be there with her, if nothing else just to get her to laugh at the differences.

We were discharged that day with a new dressing and plans to return the next day for her admission. She would be there for one day prior to surgery for observation and pre-surgery tasks. Things got very interesting when I was told I must stay with her "as an attendant". No one could really tell me what an attendant actually did, but in Indian culture, extended family is so integral, I'm sure it seemed like a silly question. A family member must stay at all times to literally "attend" to the patient's needs. Makes sense. In the US we do our best to keep families out of the hospital (except in maternity ward), whereas in India, they ask them to stay -- just one person, otherwise the entire Indian family would camp out at the hospital. I liked this in theory (allows the nurses not to be bogged down with tasks that could easily be delegated to families, i.e. bathing, feeding, adjusting pillows, etc.), but the reality was I had a hotel to stay at. Should I really plan to sleep on the couch?