it takes my pain away

When I woke up this morning, my back had not improved at all, and so I stayed home from work and went to the hospital for a check-up. This was a huge step for me, considering that I typically avoid doctors like the plague (which I usually already have when I am in doctor-avoidance mode); however, the only way that my family's traditional home remedy for illness (whisky) would cure my back pain was if I drank enough of it to dull my senses, and so I thought it was prudent to seek medical attention in case there is something seriously wrong with me.

'Medical attention' entailed a visit to the hospital. This was quite an experience, and I am glad that as long as I was standing upright rather than sitting, I was actually able to experience it in a better way than most people would. I am, however, reminded of the line in 'Eurotrip' in which Cooper talks about how his brother used a public toilet in New Delhi and had to have his leg amputated...but I digress. By the time I got to the hospital, Ismail was already there and had already gotten my paperwork for me. I filled it out, handed it to the receptionist (along with the Rs50 registration fee, which is about $1), and was told to see the neurologist in room 11. We had to wait in the hallway for about twenty minutes before I could be seen; once I got in to see the doctor, he asked me a few questions, prodded my back, told me that if I'm not better in three days to see him again, and gave me a prescription for Combiflam and Voveran Emulgel. I paid the Rs300 consultation fee, the Rs60 for my two prescriptions, and was on my way.

A few thoughts on the hospital experience:

1) The grand total of all fees, including prescriptions, and without any insurance at all, was Rs410, which is about nine dollars. This is absurdly cheap to me, but would be expensive for someone who was not deathly ill.
2) I don't mind being stared at in general; I figure that I must be a rather freakish figure for most people, and I almost respect that they don't make any pretense of ignoring me while simultaneously staring at my covertly. So while other expats seem to be really bothered by the constant attention that we get whenever we go outside, I don't really care--maybe it's a result of living in a small town and feeling like I grew up with fairly constant scrutiny anyway. However, it's a much more uncomfortable experience when you're already cranky because of a sore back, and when you're stuck in a room with people staring at you for twenty minutes. It was exacerbated by the fact that everyone (nurses, staff, my driver) kept asking me to sit down, as I was leaning against the wall, and I had to keep explaining that sitting down was the worst thing for me to do.
3) It's weird to be given prescriptions that don't have ten pages of warnings and contraindications. The only warning sign I saw anywhere was a piece of paper tacked up on the wall in the waiting room that told people they should take their pills with cold water rather than warm water, and told a cautionary tale of some guy who used warm water and ended up getting the pill stuck in his esophagus and spending five days in the hospital. They even used the phrase 'one guy took a pill', which I thought was amusingly informal. But, I got no information about my prescriptions at all; the gel has a stick figure mimicking back pain, and all I know about the Combiflam is that it's a combination of ibuprofen and acetaminophen. They cut a sheet of blister packets in half to give me the amount that I was prescribed, which helpfully cut off the warnings and contraindications. So, this is all I know about it:

Caution: Bronchospasm ma
patients suffering from or w
history of bronchial asthma
not be given to patients in
other non-steroidal anti infl
induce the symptoms of as
urticaria
Warning: Overdose may be

I have a feeling that warning may have applied to me, but I can't be sure, and I wanted my back to stop hurting, so I decided to go with it anyway.

I spent the entire day lying flat on my back; I had lots of work to do, but sitting at my desk for long periods of time hurts (which is why I need to cut this off soon). Spending so much time lying down or standing up definitely helped, so hopefully I'll be better tomorrow. I also got Siraj to make me macaroni and cheese; there were a few boxes of Kraft Mac and Cheese, which I figured would be the best cure for illness. I had fun talking to him in our bastardized mixture of English, Hindi, and pantomime (he's pretty shy about speaking English, but very entertaining anyway) while the macaroni cooked, and I was amused to watch his method of combining it. He didn't add any butter (sad), but he heated the milk and added the cheese packet to it as though he was making a real sauce. So it turned out good, if not quite as buttery as usual, and since no one else was around, it was okay that I made a spectacle of myself by eating while kneeling on a dining room chair.

I had a call tonight that I couldn't get out of, but I took it lying beside the phone in my apartment, so it could have been much worse. Now, I shall use the questionable gel and get some sleep!