Here's hoping my pride doesn't lead to a very big fall

Photo Album: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=172289&id=770825648&l=440fed99e5

Sorry to be a whiny little baby, but I feel like CRAAAAAAP.  It figures that I’m totally unprepared to be struck down by a cold/sinus infection, but I am prepared for every other medical calamity (well, I guess except malaria; I never did buy any pills for that).  I can’t believe that after all the forums I went through and guidebooks I read no one mentioned that 90% of the foreign tourists develop a cough or cold here.  The air is obviously shit and the Indian government tells its people that the best way to prevent the spread of disease is not to cover their mouths or stop spitting wherever they feel like or to pee in a toilet and not against walls, no, their advice is to WEAR MORE LAYERS.  Yeah.

Woke up at 11am feeling like I hadn’t slept at all, despite the 12-hour coma I just came out of.  At least I’m still the only one in the dorms; even though I try to sleep in dorms to meet people and save money, today I’m glad I can be miserable in solitude.  It takes me an hour and a half to shower (if you call huddling under the bathtub faucet showering), change, secure my stuff in my locker and go up for breakfast on the rooftop.  It's already pretty hot, but I'm not sure if I'm sweating because I'm sick or just a lightweight in the heat.


After only thirty minutes, though, I'm exhausted again and can't be bothered to raise my bread to my mouth.  I head back down to the dorms and pass out for approximately three hours.  I wake up every now and again and at one point I'm fairly sure someone arrives to stay in the dorms.  I hope I didn't scare them off.  Oh, who am I kidding, I couldn't care less about that right now I feel like death warmed over.  I nod off for another hour or so.

All right, I can’t just lie here anymore; I need to be proactive about getting better.  I call up to the desk and ask if they have a doctor on call.  They do, but can I please give them a list of symptoms that they can relay to him over the phone?  No problem.  When I sit up the room doesn’t spin much, which I take as a positive sign and starting writing.  Here’s what I come up with:
Last 7 Days: Periodically felt tired, coughing (sometimes phlegmy, sometimes dry), pressure in sinuses, blowing nose a lot (sometimes clear, sometimes green and clumpy), clearing throat a lot, sometimes just breathing tickles throat and makes me want to cough, some sneezing
Yesterday and Today: Headache in middle of forehead, very tired, no appetite, face is very hot, body alternates burning up and getting chills (despite being under blanket), green gunk when blow nose, clearing throat lot and coughing up phlegm.

I take it up to them and say that since I’m going home soon I’d like to save my rupees if I can so would they please ask the doctor if this sounds like a sinus infection.  If it is, I know what to go get from the pharmacy myself.  If it sounds like something else, I would like the doctor to check me out.  One man gets on the phone for about 30-45 seconds with the doctor then hangs up and tells me he’ll be here at 6:30.  Now, for your reading pleasure, I write out the dialogue that followed this announcement:

Me: “Did you ask him if it sounded like a sinus infection?”  (I’m suspicious from how short the call was)
Hotel Guy: “Madam, he cannot say that without checking you out first, he must come.”
Me: “Okay, but did you ask him if it sounded like a sinus infection?”
Hotel Guy: “There is no point to asking he cannot say on the phone.”
Me: “Did you ask him if it sounded like a sinus infection?”
Hotel Guy: “Madam, he was on a motorbike—“
Me: “You managed to talk to him about other things, so did you ask him my question?”
Hotel Guy: “Madam, he was on a motorbike.”
Me: “Listen, will you just answer my question?  Did you ask him or not?  The answer is either yes or no.” (Voice is getting quite a bit louder)
Hotel Guy: “Please, madam…
Me: “So you didn’t ask him, did you?  I am so mad right now.  You know what, call him off.  I don’t want him to come.  You cannot believe how angry I am.”  (Shouting pretty darn loudly at this point and not sorry about it at all)

At this point I walk down to my room, grab my backpack, ask another traveler where the nearest pharmacy is, stomp icily past the men at the desk and go out to get myself some medicine.  Wow, the air here is filthy, though.  After 5 minutes I’m a sweaty, weezy mess, but the pharmacist gives me a cough and cold pill as well as a decongestant, which he swears will sort me out.

When I return to the hotel, an older man is sitting at the desk (the one who placed the call has wisely disappeared).  The older guy asks me what happened with the doctor.  Again, for your reading pleasure, I transcribe our conversation:

Me: “Oh, the problem wasn’t with the doctor.  The problem was that I asked the gentleman who called to ask a very specific question, but he didn’t.  What really made me angry was that when I kept asking him if he had done it he wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”
Second Hotel Guy: “Oh, I see madam.  You know the doctor can’t tell that over the phone, though.”
Me: “I know, but like I said, the problem is that he wouldn’t just tell me if he had asked the doctor my question.”
Second Hotel Guy: “Well, you see the doctor was on a motorbike, madam.”
Me: (Choking back disbelief) “I know, but he was able to talk to him about other things for nearly a minute.  He could have asked.”
Second Hotel Guy: “Yes, but the doctor was on a motorbike.”
Me: (Walking away and totally pissed off) “Oh, just forget it.  This is ridiculous.”
Second Hotel Guy: (Calling after me) “Yes, well, whatever.  I’m sorry, madam.”
Me: (Calling back) “Yeah, sure.”

An open comment to all Indian managers, salespeople, vendors, etc: If a customer comes to you with some type of complaint, the best way to respond is to apologize first rather than defend yourself.  I know this is difficult, I struggle with it, too, but you’re going to make your customer much happier this way.

Marco, the guy who told me where the pharmacy was, is a good sport and lets me vent for a minute (or 5, but who’s counting?) then joins me up on the rooftop café.  We have a really nice conversation over a couple of pots of chai.  Some things I learn about him: he’s half British half Italian, he’s been traveling the world for 8 months, he wants to be a writer, he took ancient Greek in college like I did, he thinks he might move to Italy for a while, and he’s a lapsed Catholic.  Eventually we kind of settle in and he reads while I try to add photos to my blog.

Quick question: I’ve only met 2 other women traveling alone, but Marco is like the 9th or 10th guy I’ve met doing the same thing.  Where are all the single ladies?  Not that I’m complaining, all the guys are really, really cute and fewer women means less competition. 

Mmmm.  The nearby mosque has started the call to prayer.  I haven’t heard this much in India; Muslims are in the minority here (they were encouraged to move to Pakistan after Independence) and mosques are much less common than other temples.  There’s usually only a few prominent ones sprinkled throughout the cities (the biggest being called the Jama Masjid, or Friday Mosque) that everyone must make their way to. 

Now the music is changing; it began with a lone voice singing like usual, but after about 5 minutes it changes into something I have never heard before in my life.  It’s more like notes resonating and vibrating in the air, occasionally clashing then slipping back into harmony; they seem to be coming from instruments now.  Voices drop in and out and it alternates between being the eeriest and most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my life.  It’s almost alien.  Can this be coming from one mosque or are there several sources?  And as quickly as it began it’s over and the typical soundtrack of car horns, accented by the fountain the café has, come back to the foreground.

Okay, I don’t know if the pills I got from the pharmacy are super strong or if I accidentally swallowed some of the bug spray I put on earlier or what, but for the last hour or so I’ve been getting pretty light-headed.  Marco probably thinks I’m a bit nuts because my sentences aren’t making as much sense as they used to and from time to time are just fragments.  I’ve got a horrible taste in my mouth, like chemicals, and I just feel foggy.  But on the other hand the pressure in my head is totally gone and my cough isn’t as bad.  I’m not sure it’s worth the loss of mental clarity, though, so hopefully after a good night’s sleep I won’t need the pills anymore.