Alright – here comes the update to the “Monsoon and Fever” blog, if a couple days late.

riding in Charlie's rickshaw

Our friend Ravi called and setup an appointment for me with a local Indian doctor. Charlie, a friend of our hosts, drives a rickshaw, and came up to the farm to pick Erin and I up. For r250, he would drive us into town, wait around 2-3 hours until I had seen the doctor, and then drive us back. For reference, the current exchange rate is about 48 rupee to 1 dollar – that makes the whole journey come to around $5.

From the back of the rickshaw, we slowly watched the landscape change over the next 20 minutes . The forest soon gave way to conventional farms – tea paddies and coffee plantations, and gradually more and more houses appeared on the roadside and surrounding valleys, until soon the small town of Madikeri was upon us. Granted, all of this was seen from the back of a rickshaw swerving to and fro to avoid myriad potholes and oncoming vehicles, which of course have no intention of slowing down for a little rickshaw headed the other way. So to put yourself in our shoes, you might imagine this transforming pastoral landscape while jerking your head up and down erratically with a 101-degree fever.

a pastoral landscape near Madikeri

Madikeri is a mountain town, pretty far off the beaten-by-tourists path. We saw no other foreigners during our visit. It is remarkably clean for a small Indian town – likely due to the trashcans which line the streetside. Traffic is busy in this 1-light town (OK, maybe 3 or 4 lights), and is kept in line by the Madikeri Traffic Police, charming characters whose dress resembles the Girl Scouts of America uniform with a too-clean white cowboy hat. Pity I don’t have a picture to share - I’ll have to take one on my next trip.  There are lots of small storefronts, most of which are selling shoes or cloth, and some which claim to sell “fancy” gifts - though I am suspicious that these stores also sell shoes.  Strange and delightful smells - and let’s be honest, some not-so-delightful - waft down the alleys, and you’re always looking out from all sides for those quick little rickshaws which threaten to knock you over if you’re not careful.  Beep!  Honk!  BEEEEP!  Horns of all shapes and sizes emit every kind of sound imaginable - as if someone was sitting in a laboratory somewhere devising the most annoying sounds ever heard, while clicking their fingers together maniacally.

the streets of Madikeri

The wait for the doctor was tolerable, especially since we used the extra time to do some shopping for essentials (soap, pillow, extra keys, sip on some delicious chai). For about 15 minutes, I sat in the waiting room for my number to finally come up – amid some other folks who seemed worse off than me, with eyes half open and drool oozing from their mouths. It put things in perspective, and I entered the doctor’s office feeling a little better than before. The visit was straight-forward and professional. The doctor spoke excellent English, and gave me as thorough an examination as any doctor I’ve seen in the United States. He talked me through my symptoms, checked my blood pressure, etc. and diagnosed my condition as “seasonal flu with an upper respiratory infection”. I was prescribed about 4 medications (antibiotics, decongestant, nosedrops, expectorant), sent to the pharmacy counter on my way out, and soon I was back in the rickshaw heading for the hills with Erin at my side.

the Town Clinic in Madikeri

Total cost of my doctor’s visit (with no insurance, as that is pretty much meaningless here) + 4 medications, provided by well known American pharmaceutical names like Merck + private shuttle service from my mountain home + 2 cups of delicious chai while I waited for the doctor = $10.00. If that doesn’t convince you that there’s something terribly corrupt with the US medical system, I don’t know what will.

Oh, and by the way, by the time my fever broke, Erin had already come down with the flu. We repeated this journey to the doctor two days later.  She’s doing much better now with those happy antibiotics in her system, and we are finally coherent enough to write blogs and engage in all other productive activities.  My appetite is returning, and I’ve begun taking some short hikes around the property - though for the most part, I am still feeling rather weak.  What a crazy way to begin this adventure in India!

Let’s close this blog with a hilarious photo of Erin in a fever-induced coma:

an Erin burrito - calliente!

Tags: fever madikeri doctor india western ghats mojo sick flu rickshaw

This entry was posted on Sunday, September 13th, 2009 at 2:03 am and is filed under Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.