Aside from still being sick, today was incredible. I woke up to two lengthy e-mails from two great friends, and read them slowly over a nice breakfast.

While at work I began to crave a hot toddy (I shiver every time I write/say that word) as I think it would help soothe my throat, but as of 5PM today, all of the liquor stores throughout Bangalore are closed until Sunday evening, meaning even alcohol for therapy’s sake is off limits.

Knowing that alcohol is so inaccessible makes me only want it more! Is that alcoholism? Nah, I doubt it. I think I’m okay when it comes to addiction, but I only think this because there’s an open pack of cigarettes sitting in front of me that I haven’t touched since I fell ill on Monday.

Please standby as I follow up this thought with a long overdue entry about my recent four-day drinking binge in Pondicherry.

Ironic that shortly after the USA passes the ol’ health bill, I get sick and have my first experience with the Indian health care system.
Prior to leaving America, I was slightly concerned with my health insurance, and what kind of coverage I would have in India, as I would be in a totally foreign bacterial climate, and also because I recently had a nasty string of accidents (broken foot, broken pinky, strep throat).
I never came to a resolution before leaving, but I ended up being in enrolled in some traveler’s plan, which I think would help me get life-flighted somewhere if need be. In all likeliness, I will pay that bill for the rest of my life — maybe.
I’m going to do a brief comparison of my experiences with the American health care system, and the Indian health care system.
America

I fall sick, and must see a doctor.
I search for a doctor who accepts my health insurance.
I search within the small pool of doctor’s who accept my health insurance for a doctor with availability.
I wait two or three days for my appointment.
I go to the doctor’s office thirty minutes early to fill out necessary paperwork.
I pay a $25 copay.
I wait an additional thirty to sixty minutes before being admitted to the examination room.
I wait in the examination room for another fifteen to twenty minutes.
The doctor examines me. I am diagnosed. I am told important information regarding my symptoms and treatment, and I am written a prescription.
I leave the office and go to a pharmacy.
I am told I must way six to twenty four hours for my prescription to be filled.
If it is covered by my insurance, I pay a $10 copay. If not, I pay the price in full. My most expensive prescription purchase was over $400.
I take my medication as directed. I heal.
A month later, I get a mysterious bill in the mail from my physician, saying I owe them more money.
All in all, I might pay $50 to $200for treatment in addition to the $70 a month I pay for health insurance.

India

I fall sick, and must see a doctor.
I go to a doctor’s office, give them my name and phone number, and am immediately admitted to the examination room where the doctor is waiting.
The doctor examines me. I am diagnosed. I am told important information regarding my symptoms and treatment, and I am written a prescription.
I pay Rs. 375 for my consultation.
I take my prescription to a pharmacy and it is filled immediately. I pay Rs. 140 for two different kinds of pills, and a throat wash.

Now, unless I end up dead in a week, this experience will be forever embedded in my mind as the best medical experience I’ve ever had. Sure, the thermometer was in this jar with a weird orange sponge, but it was washed and dried before it was put in my mouth.
I’m not saying I would want to get open-heart surgery in India (however I am considering eye surgery), or would like to test the limitations of their health care system, but for a minor sickness? This is all I needed, and it didn’t cost me an arm and a leg.
After the whole experience (which lasted all of twenty minutes), I got some dinner, and some whisky, and took the picture above, which clearly shows me being sad due to my sickness.
[edited for sloppy penmanship]

Ironic that shortly after the USA passes the ol’ health bill, I get sick and have my first experience with the Indian health care system.

Prior to leaving America, I was slightly concerned with my health insurance, and what kind of coverage I would have in India, as I would be in a totally foreign bacterial climate, and also because I recently had a nasty string of accidents (broken foot, broken pinky, strep throat).

I never came to a resolution before leaving, but I ended up being in enrolled in some traveler’s plan, which I think would help me get life-flighted somewhere if need be. In all likeliness, I will pay that bill for the rest of my life — maybe.

I’m going to do a brief comparison of my experiences with the American health care system, and the Indian health care system.

America

  1. I fall sick, and must see a doctor.
  2. I search for a doctor who accepts my health insurance.
  3. I search within the small pool of doctor’s who accept my health insurance for a doctor with availability.
  4. I wait two or three days for my appointment.
  5. I go to the doctor’s office thirty minutes early to fill out necessary paperwork.
  6. I pay a $25 copay.
  7. I wait an additional thirty to sixty minutes before being admitted to the examination room.
  8. I wait in the examination room for another fifteen to twenty minutes.
  9. The doctor examines me. I am diagnosed. I am told important information regarding my symptoms and treatment, and I am written a prescription.
  10. I leave the office and go to a pharmacy.
  11. I am told I must way six to twenty four hours for my prescription to be filled.
  12. If it is covered by my insurance, I pay a $10 copay. If not, I pay the price in full. My most expensive prescription purchase was over $400.
  13. I take my medication as directed. I heal.
  14. A month later, I get a mysterious bill in the mail from my physician, saying I owe them more money.
  15. All in all, I might pay $50 to $200for treatment in addition to the $70 a month I pay for health insurance.

India

  1. I fall sick, and must see a doctor.
  2. I go to a doctor’s office, give them my name and phone number, and am immediately admitted to the examination room where the doctor is waiting.
  3. The doctor examines me. I am diagnosed. I am told important information regarding my symptoms and treatment, and I am written a prescription.
  4. I pay Rs. 375 for my consultation.
  5. I take my prescription to a pharmacy and it is filled immediately. I pay Rs. 140 for two different kinds of pills, and a throat wash.

Now, unless I end up dead in a week, this experience will be forever embedded in my mind as the best medical experience I’ve ever had. Sure, the thermometer was in this jar with a weird orange sponge, but it was washed and dried before it was put in my mouth.

I’m not saying I would want to get open-heart surgery in India (however I am considering eye surgery), or would like to test the limitations of their health care system, but for a minor sickness? This is all I needed, and it didn’t cost me an arm and a leg.

After the whole experience (which lasted all of twenty minutes), I got some dinner, and some whisky, and took the picture above, which clearly shows me being sad due to my sickness.

[edited for sloppy penmanship]

Even though I still don’t have a stable internet connection, I dare say today was the best day I’ve had yet this year.

I almost feel like I’m living a stable life again.

WHISKY JUICE BOX.

WHISKY JUICE BOX.

48 Hour Summary.

  • Between Newark and Bangalore, I slept for a peaceful 16 hours, which has destroyed my sleeping patterns.
  • Hassled by customs for traveling with more laptops than underwear.
  • Shot in the face by the bidet in my bathroom.
  • Visited my office; learned and forgot many, many names.
  • Ate several Indian dishes, all of which were delightful, and also forgot what they were called.
  • Was led to the watering hole — of alcohol, and purchased several varieties of Kingfisher beer, and Signature whisky, all of which are rather tasty.
  • Indulged in Indian television (more to come on this).
  • Returned to my office; learned and forgot many, many names again.
  • Walked around the city, crossed MG Road during peak traffic and survived.
  • Bought a pack of cigarettes for less than $2.
So far, so good.