Thankful for Medical Tourism

Yesterday was American Thanksgiving, and I was thankful for my ability to buy a better health care system. I was up bright and early at 5am to take the morning train to Dehradun to interview some farmers near there. Just before rushing out the door I ate some new bread I had bought at a bakery the day before. Just as I was about to stuff that second slice into my mouth, I noticed a disturbingly familiar itching on the roof of my mouth. Brighter lights and closer look illuminated the tiny bits of walnut they snuck into the wheat germ bread. Ack!! What to do? Fortunately, there was a taxi waiting outside to take me to the train, so I woke up a friend to ask where the best hospital was and redirected my confused taxi driver to a posh private hospital in south Delhi.

After an hour's drive that felt like days, I arrived at the emergency of Max Super Specialty Hospital. (They are part of the morally questionable medical tourism industry here. They'll even pick you up at the airport). It was the most empty emerg I have ever seen. I was greeted by a doctor who asked what happened, and then laid out on a stretcher while someone, who may have been a trained professional of some kind, took an exceedingly long time to get an IV needle into my right hand (remember, the left is for pooping only). He kept looking at me nervously every time he poked and prodded, trying to get the damn thing into my tiny vein. It was more than a little nauseating. Anyway, I made it clear to the doctor that I wasn't going to just calmly lay there and accept whatever they chose to inject into my veins, even in my shaky condition. So after some discussion, they pumped me full of the strongest anti-allergy medication ever. I broke out in a sweat and just about passed out. Still, my throat wasn't feeling normal after some time, so we had more discussion about whether they should give me epinephrin or some steroid from the prednisone family (I think prednisone should only be used in a near-death situation, which I guess this was). Ultimately, they decided on the steroid. I passed out for a while, and got discharged after the nurse decided I was going to live. I was somewhat less than reassured when she asked me which country I was from, and then asked if Canada was part of Australia.

All in all, though, not a bad hospital experience, as they go, and surely much better than it could have been! They sent me home with a bill for Rs1900 (just under $50) and a prescription for more antihistamines and some H2 blockers. That's right, ulcer/reflux medication. Why? Because I was feeling nauseated from the walnuts when I arrived. I'd never actually swallowed a walnut before, so I think it's reasonable to feel a little nauseated. That, and I was operating on 3 hours sleep. They do love their drugs here, so I smiled to myself, took their prescription, and when on my way..... a little groggy but very thankful to be alive.