mind the doctor.

Today was my second experience with the university doctor, and it definitely shook my faith in him much more than the first time.

So I've had a terribly sore throat for the past two weeks, and today it became very painful to even swallow. So I took my handy flashlight and shone it down my throat and looked at the mirrored image of my inflamed tonsils and saw large white spots dotting the reddened surfaces. I showed Collin, and we both agreed I needed some good old antibiotics. 

I tried telling Krishnayya, our father figure here in India, that all I needed was to have the doctor tell us the kind of antibiotics to get. I was very adamant about not wanting to go, and we have in several instances just called the doctor to tell him what we know should be done so I thought nothing of my request to just call him this time. But Krishnayya wouldn't have this. He told me to not be a baby and to go to the doctor. I was mad and just knew something would be askew by going. But there's no saying "no" to Krishnayya. 

So we hopped on Krishnayya's scooter and headed to Andhra University's campus to visit the doc.

We wait for a few minutes for the other patients in the room to finish up and for the doctor to finish his daily paperwork of signing sheets of paper that were held in front of him by his assistants. Finally I took the chair beside him. 

"What is your problem?" he asks.

"I just have a sore throat. It's very infected with white spots on my tonsils, and it's very painful to swallow."

"Ah. Have you been eating cold ice cream? Cold drinks, water?"

"No..."

"Well, why do you have a sore throat then?"

I stared at him dumbfounded for what felt like minutes, then I blinked, shook my thoughts free from being so astounded by his logic and told him,

 "It's an infection...like a virus, or bacteria...an infection."

"No, no. It's because you're in India."

"They do have these infections in America too, sir."

"No. It's because you are here in India. India is hot, America is cold."

I had nothing more to say on the matter because he was obviously right, and I was silly for thinking the infection in my throat was caused by bacteria or viruses.

Well, despite his logic in thinking my throat infection was instigated by cold ice cream and being in India, I was impressed that he did end up prescribing me with antibiotics, along with antacids. When I asked about the antacids, I was told that they were for digestion. "But that wasn't part of my symptoms," I said,  and Krishnayya told me simply that it is common. So I had to quickly put two and two together and figured that these pills for digestion were to aid my body in handling the antibiotics. 

In any case, after the first time of going to the doctor knowing I had swollen lymph nodes under my armpits and knowing antibiotics would do the trick, and him telling me that wasn't the problem and that I had ingrown hairs from shaving and that I shouldn't be shaving my armpits, and after today's remarkable visit, I will just have to self prescribe if any further illnesses occur. 

But now I know where to go if I want a supplementary opinion to my own diagnoses. 

brought to you by...

It's been a long time, but...
Last weekend we spent our time in Rajamundry, which is a smaller, not as crowded version, of Vizag. It has all the same features of any Indian city, I suppose: the blaring horns, men and children relieving themselves on the sides of the roads, cows and buffalo roaming freely and innocently getting in the way of everyone and everything, and the steep foreigner tax.

On Sunday the 10th of October we spent fifteen hours on a boat cruising the Godavari River.

After all those long hours of trying to sleep on the filthy carpet of the deck of the boat, and then idly watching the murky, brown water pass beneath us with foamy feces floating along, we went back to our hotel room to relax and watch some much needed television.
After much channel flipping, we settled for half an hour of The Ghost and the Darkness and we questioned each other, what ever happened to Val? Then a very moving public service announcement flickered on.

Scene:
Crowded bus moving violently along a busy street. Men, women, and children desperately grabbing at the bars to steady themselves.
A businessman wearing a sharp suit and tie, standing, hovering over his seated, unknown companions. Slow motion panel of his face as he inhales to relieve a deliciously loud sneeze.
Slow motion panel of the other bus riders, all freezing in fear from what could happen, then desperately the camera pans back to our businessman.
He managed to grab a handkerchief from his suit pocket, and in the next moment was able to cover his illness-ridden sneeze.
Everyone on the bus applauded and smiled at him for his good deed.

But I wonder...aren't there bigger health concerns the government should be focusing on? Sneezing seems so innocent compared to all sorts of deeds we have witnessed on a five minute walk around our neighborhood. Handwashing? Toilet using? So many options... I can only hope that people will see that it's not much harder to walk an extra ten to fifteen feet to the nearest toilet stall. But I guess there is a certain appeal...?
No. No, I don't get it.