‘Lost in translation’ has been a common theme throughout our stay in India. For the most part, it has been pretty harmless, and, when exercising patience with it, sometimes amusing. I am typically pretty patient, but anyone who knows Chris might say that he has room for development in this area.

I am convinced that our relocation to India is part of a grand plan or the result of some divine intervention to prepare us for the patience that we will need to have in January when we have a baby. After all, we will both need to be prepared to manage and communicate with a creature who will not be able to speak or understand words at first and with whom we will not be able to reason for even longer. Even Duke was fairly trainable from Day 1. This is surely uncharted territory for us.

Flexibility

A few weekends ago we were trying very hard to have a fun Saturday in Chennai. I picked the first activity, a yoga class at a posh yoga studio nearby. We arrived a few minutes early to find out that the class was cancelled. No problem, there was a yoga workshop going on that we could join instead. The workshop was scheduled to be two hours rather than the one hour class that we had planned, but no problem, after all, it was Saturday.

Upon entering the workshop, the instructor, who ironically was from Chicago, proclaimed that since it is nearly impossible to squeeze a decent yoga practice into just two hours, he would extend the workshop to three hours for us. Great. Well, assuming that you had nothing else on your agenda for the day that is.

Three and a half hours later, we emerged from the yoga studio, ready to tackle Chris’ activity choice for the day.

Patience

Chris carefully explained to our driver that he wanted to go to the Snake Park. I had no desire to go see snakes, but I did my best to keep in mind that Chris probably didn’t want to spend his entire morning in the yoga studio.

The Snake Park is quite close to our house. If it weren’t for the crazy road and traffic conditions, I could most certainly run there. Our driver pulled out of the yoga studio parking lot, began heading south towards our house, and then continued farther than we expected.

“Are we going to the Snake Park?” Insert mental image of Chris making snake-like hand gestures.

“Yes.” The driver replied.

Ok then.

Adaptability

Fifteen minutes later and thirty minutes into our drive, we were obviously aware that we were not going to see snakes. Or at least not the ones that Chris had planned on.

“Should we say something?” I asked Chris.

“I don’t think we can now, it has been too long. Let’s just wait and see where we are going.”

The drive continued. After another thirty minutes in the car, our driver finally pulled off of the road into a dirt parking lot with a big crocodile sign. We had arrived. ‘Crocodile Park’ the sign proclaimed.

Close enough. Who knew that there were so many varieties of these giant scaly lizards?

Personal Growth

As we rode the hour back to Chennai, I reflected on our day. It turned out being nothing like what we planned, but that was ok. We were able to roll with the changes as they came and neither of us had any major meltdowns. I’m sure that both of us still have a long way to go with this patience thing, but I am really happy that we are making progress. Hopefully the patience that we develop in India will result in fewer crisis in January when we will be forced to relinquish any modicum of control to the tiny person who will join our household.

This morning I paid yet another visit to the Indian hospital for a pregnancy-standard glucose tolerance test. Several times, I have alluded to the fact that this hospital and its processes are difficult to navigate, so I thought I would do a little walk through of the process.

**Warning** There is one picture that might seem gross to some readers.

Step 1: Wait in line at Outpatient Billing to pay for your tests. That’s right, you pay in full, up front. If you stand in line long enough, you will see people, with presumably complicated or highly specialized test orders, roll up with huge wads of cash. My test was relatively inexpensive at Rs 740, about $16.

It is important to note that while this sounds inexpensive to us, most of the patients are getting paid Indian wages, not American wages, and this is fairly pricey. Furthermore, the hospital staff and even doctors are also getting paid Indian wages which keeps the hospital overhead far lower than at a US hospital. As a point of reference, my doctor here bills about $12 for a patient visit.

Step 2: Wait in line at Lab Reception. Nobody tells you to do this part. You just need to know. They give you one of those little collection bottles that many of us are familiar with and a number, then tell you to go give blood and urine samples.

Fortunately, the Lab Reception line is pretty tame this early in the morning. Later in the day the line winds all over the room, intertwined with the “Old to New Records” line and the “Reception” line.

Naturally, helpful details such as where the bathroom is, or where to leave the aforementioned urine sample are all overlooked. Perhaps more importantly, there is no warning that you best have brought your own toilet paper.

Thankfully, I have started keeping a stash in my purse. I find myself hoarding napkins at restaurants and stuffing a few extra squares of toilet paper in my purse at every chance I get. I must break this habit when I get home.

Step 3: Give your samples. First wait in line for the bathroom, then wait for your number to be called at the Blood Collection room. I had my act together this morning and scored #10 at 6:15 AM! Seriously, that is a huge deal!

Step 4: Choke down a cup of glucose. Those of you who have been subjected to this tortuous test before feel my pain. It is like drinking a giant cup of watered down honey. My stomach does flip flops just thinking about it.

Think the maple syrup chugging scene in Super Troopers, but worse because you’re in a hospital blood collection lab, not a diner. Blet.

Have I mentioned that I tried this test a few weeks ago? I puked. FAIL! That may be why I know the process so well now.

Step 5: Go back to Lab Reception to pick up the cup for my next sample.

One of my interest areas in grad school was operations management. Ironically, we did a case study on this hospital in International Ops class. I have another operational improvement suggestion for them: Give each patient all of their collection devices at once to eliminate multiple processing of the same patient and minimize the line at the Lab Reception counter.

I was able to talk the guy at Lab Reception into giving me the cups for samples two and three at the same time, but he sure wasn’t keen on that idea.

Step 6: Wait one hour.

Step 7: Produce urine sample #2. Finally discover that the first bathroom stall is a western toilet, while the rest are of the squatting variety. ::Big sigh of relief.::

Depost sample at designated drop-off location. Ewww.

**Gross comment alert** Is it just me or are some of these samples really crazy colors?

Step 8: Elbow* your way through the line at Blood Collection. Remember, samples #2&3 are time sensitive and Blood Collection has moved way past Token #10 by now.

*It is important to note that lines work differently in India. You do not necessarily get your turn by waiting in line nicely. More commonly, the most assertive, ahem aggressive, person in line goes next. Always stand your ground and do not be shy about crowding because if you leave personal space in front of you, someone will fill it and suddenly be ahead of you in line. As a borderline claustrophobe who really appreciates my personal space, this concept is extremely difficult for me.

Step 9: Repeat Steps 6-8. (And Step 5 as well if, you didn’t think to/weren’t able to talk the Lab Reception guy into multiple collection cups.)

Step 10: Sweet relief! Call your driver for a ride home!

Kind of. We’re not quite finished yet. At this hospital you are responsible for picking up your own test results and delivering them to the doctor yourself.

Step 11: Wait 24 hours, then return to Counter 6A to collect test results. See comment above about aggressive line-waiting. It is definitely called for in this line.

Step 12: Make appointment with doctor to discuss results.

So thankful to be home now. Can’t wait to go back tomorrow for an adventure at Counter 6A!

All in all, it honestly isn’t such a bad experience now that I understand the process, but my first attempt at the glucose tolerance test made me never want to go back again. In retrospect, the queasy feeling that the glucose drink gave me the first time around probably did not help my attitude any. It may have helped that I discovered bathroom stall #1 this time around as well.

Earlier this week, Chris and I headed to one of our local hospitals for a long awaited ultrasound fetal anatomy scan. This is a routine ultrasound typically done around the 20th week of pregnancy. It is often especially looked forward to because this is usually when people find out the gender of their baby.

Well, people not in India anyway.

As the sign clearly states, they will, under no circumstances, tell you the gender of your baby. Chris, of course, being Chris, asked the ultrasound technician about this in no uncertain terms. She verified that no, she would not disclose the baby’s gender and that it was a punishable offense.

Since the late 1970’s, when many new fetal gender determination technologies became widely available in India, the gender gap (ratio of male to female babies) has been increasing. In a country the size of India, based on the 2011 census data, this gender gap amounts to approximately 600,000 “missing” baby girls this year. I am choosing not going to get into the theoretical causes or implications of this problem, but I think that we can all agree that it is absolutely astonishing.

Of more immediate importance to me is my surprise at how disappointed I felt when I was not able to find out the baby’s gender. Chris, on the other hand, did not seem to care one bit. We both went into the experience saying that it was good to have a surprise, but I’m starting to change my mind. How is he not more curious?

Before heading into the ultrasound room, I was extremely interested to see what the equipment would look like. At our local hospital, it can be a mixed bag. There are some areas, mostly non-technical ones such as patient waiting areas, that are in serious need of renovation. From what I have seen technology-wise though, this hospital seems to be totally up to date.

They offered both the standard and 3D ultrasound technology, which Chris got to witness first hand. I was very disappointed that they positioned me such that I could not see the screen at all. Chris got to sit near the ultrasound technician and see the whole show. Before hand, I had him study “boy” and “girl” 21 week ultrasounds in hopes that he might be able to shed some light on the mystery, but no dice. He claims that he is not an ultrasound interpretation expert. Clearly he wasn’t trying hard enough!

I considered posting some of the 3D pictures on here, but decided against it. Looking at other people’s ultrasound pictures is kind of creepy.

I feel like I am finally starting to get a grip on the processes and procedures involved with visiting the doctor in India. I remember on my first visit that I was completely and utterly confused the entire time. My most recent visit was much more efficient, in large part because I am starting to understand how to navigate the hospital’s process.

All in all, it was a good experience. We were told that we have what appears to be a normal baby, although it is quite large for its age by Indian standards. Before this week, I was not aware that typical baby weight varies by race. Based on these norms, one would expect that I will ultimately have a baby approximately 9 oz heavier than a typical Indian baby. That’s quite a big difference!

Maybe we will have another ultrasound opportunity. If so, I will be sure to make Chris study harder beforehand!