Archive for November 9th, 2010

Being patient

I spent hours today sitting by the window of Axel’s 5th floor hospital room, first while he was in surgery and then during his recovery. The private patient room could as well have been in a luxury hotel; medical tourism indeed. It has an enormous plasma TV screen, a couch that can become a queen size bed in case I want to spend the night here. The headboard of the hospital bed has all the bells and whistles that an Afghan nurse can’t even imagine in his or her wildest dreams.

Seeing Axel lying on a hospital bed in his johnny flooded me with memories from a little over three years ago; a not very pleasant sensation. With a heavy heart I handed him over, early in the morning, to a cheerful multi-national crew. They went to great lengths to put me at ease.

It appears that only those at the top of the pecking order are allowed to individualize their hospital uniform caps – the OR nurse with a colorful geometric pattern and the anesthesiologist with a football (soccer) motif. The Bangladeshi orderlies were all dressed the same, with disposable rather than cotton caps. The Lebanese surgeon wore a disposable paper hairnet which made him hard to recognize.

Just when I was about to start worrying, two and a half hours after I left him in the pre-surgery bay, he was wheeled back in the room, dazed and sore and with an oxygen mask. The nurse handed me a biohazard bag with a small container with what looked like mung beans in soy sauce. They were the offending gall stones in bile.

I took a picture (just in case anyone wanted to see them) and then threw them out in the biohazard waste container. It was pretty gross. Two hours later I fed him cherry jello, apple juice and lukewarm bouillon and myself a lovely zatar (wild thyme), tomato and beet salad with hummus on the side.

At about 4 PM I left him in the care of the Philippina nurse and went to see my surgeon who confirmed that I have indeed a tear in the cartelage of my right knee. As a general surgeon he will fix both my left wrist and my right knee – the reverse of the two operations I have undergone earlier in the last 5 years. I will be on crutches for 10 days which means I will return with them to Afghanistan.

Axel will stay overnight on the suggestion of the physician (but maybe also on the suggestion of the hospital administrator – the place looked decidedly underutilized). After a romantic hospital diner a deux I returned to our apartment to say goodbye to Anne and Chuck and pack up.

Tomorrow we have to change apartments in between Axel’s release from the hospital and my chat with the anesthesiologist, blood work and other surgery prep. Then I will be the patient.

Indulgence

My three travel companions took a water taxi from the Dubai Marina all the way to the Dubai Creek, with a stop at the Atlantis Hotel at the top end of the Jumeira Palm. It took an hour and a half – twice as long as a traffic-jammed taxi.

The Atlantis hotel looks like a Disney land hotel from the outside and inside you might as well be in Florida too. The stop was unplanned, due to motor failure. I warned Axel to beware of a motor-less boat drifting off to the Iranian coast.

The crew of the little boat that looks like a pod from the Body Snatchers, consisted of toothless Indonesians. They managed to avoid the Iranian coast and delivered everyone safely at the Gold Souk water taxi stop.

I missed the boat ride because of an MRI of my right knee, to determine whether a cortisone shot will do or I need an arthroscopic intervention.

While everyone my companions were still on the high seas someplace between Dubai and Iran, I went apartment hunting, walking in the hot midday sun from apartment complex to apartment complex until I found Mr. Shah from Mumbai who promised us a studio for a reasonable amount of money for our remaining 10 days. We will move to his apartment hotel on Wednesday morning.

In the afternoon Axel had his appointment with the anesthesiologist and other hospital staff to prepare for tomorrow’s surgery. We were warned that it is quite common here for surgeons to order an overnight stay at the hospital. I will go through a similar routine tomorrow afternoon.

On our way back from the hospital we stopped at the Dubai Mall to get me a new bathing suit. The one I had brought from Afghanistan had been blown away from our 33rd floor balcony where it was drying after a swim on the day of my arrival. When you live in a forest of skyscrapers there are canon winds that can be quite powerful.

We couldn’t resist the chocolate confections at one of the many coffee & pastry places at the mall (one that even took pride in training the next generation in indulgences) but instantly regretted our indulgence, that cost as much as dinner for two last night, after we had licked our plates clean.


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