Madurai

Nobody reads my blog!

I try to tell myself I don't really care and that I'm doing this for me and me only, but I guess when I started this I had this sort of very low key fantasy--all my fantasies are so pedestrian--that like,2 or 3 quirky people living in places like Prague or Orford, VT would read it--just pop in occasionally to see what was up and maybe chuckle or something--"oh, that's life--that's right--imagine, all that stuff going on in Little Dixie!" And then I had this other fantasy, that maybe things would start to happen...you know, there would be some romance or mystery that would start unfolding step by step in my blog, instead of it turning into this sort of navel gazing self-indulgent ramble. Oh, well.

I am going to do something exciting, actually--I'm going to India. About 6 months ago, I filled out an information sheet for Smile Train. Then I forgot about it.
Then I got an email from someone named T. Arulmony at Meenakshi Mission Hospital in Madurai, India inviting me to come work there for a week or two.
I forwarded the email to to Jay: 'Want to go to India?' I wrote.
He called me. "Of course I want to go to India!"
I figured we could go in the spring, when the kids went down to visit their dad for spring break.
T. Arulmony and I wrote back and forth a few times, I told him about my experience and exactly what I knew how to do and what I didn't know how to do.
Here is another difference between Jay and me: Next time I saw Jay, he knew everything about Madurai. 'It's called the Athens of India!' he told me excitedly. 'There's a large Tamil presence--you know, in Burma, that's a big issue--but we're not going to Burma.'
I stared at him. I hadn't even thought to look up Madurai! I had gone to the AHA and bought an ACLS manua and a PALS manual, since I figured I woud be working with children and am not that comfortable with peds--and I had gone through my textbooks trying to figure out which ones I should take with me. I started laughing. It hadn't even occurred to me to think about the surroundings--my whole being lives inside a hospital, now, I guess. Wherever it is in the world.
He looks all around him and asks questions--he sees the furniture and the trees and the whole picture--I just anxiously focus on what it is I am going to do and whether or not I will do it in the right way and what I need to learn/change/speed up to do it. He enjoys himself, and feels he has a right to do this. I just hope I don't fuck up.
So I mention this to Lilly, and she gets really mad. "You can't go to India without me! I'm the whole reason you're interested in cleft palates in the first place! You have to take me! I will never, never forgive you if you go without me."
I stare at her.
You know, most of the time, I forget Lilly has a cleft palate and all we went through to get her to where she is now. Of course Lilly has to go.
I tell Jay. "But how will we have sex?" is his first question.
But then later, sitting in the coffee shop, he says, "you know, going with Lilly is perfect. You can't leave Lilly. And I've been thinking, that would be a great documentary--coming full circle--going to India--I'm going to try to sell it and I'm going to film you guys, if it's all right with Lilly."
Of course it's all right with Lilly. I'm suprised at this, given how she feels about Jay.
So he shops the idea around and found a taker--a tv news magazine, I won't tell you which one-but they don't want to give Jay money to do it--they want to come along!
So it's just a big cluster now, and I'm going to go traipsing off to Madurai with all these people.
Argh.
I've been asking Indian people I know about Madurai...
The Indian lady who owns our favorite restaurant: "Madurai? I've never heard of it. Are you sure you're pronouncing it correctly?"
The Indian lady who appraised my house for my consolidation loan: "Madurai? Oh my god, why on earth would you want to go there?"
And Dr. Patel, who was in my ACLS class last Thursday. Dr. Patel is very beautiful and very arrogant, but nice, once you get past the bravura. She has a cloud of black, black, curly hair that she wears piled on top of her head. She speaks very fast and never makes eye contact with the nurses When I met her in the SICU, she walked into the room without introducing herself and said shrilly, pointing at me with every order "You will perform EKG and then you will inform me of the results. You will draw Troponin levels immediately and follow them up twice more, 8 hours apart."
I pointed at her and said, " I will do that right away!(point) But you will tell me who you are(point) and stop pointing at me (point, point)"
We got along after that.
So I told her and she got all excited. "Are you going to Meenakshi Mission Hospital?"
"Yes! How did you know?"
"My father worked there as a doctor. That's my name! I'm named for Meenakshi."
"You are?"
"Yes! It means 'punctuality' in Hindi."
I'm nonplussed. "Your father named you 'Punctuality'?" (What kind of a father names their kid "punctuality"? I mean, I guess it's one of the virtues, but still...especially since she had showed up for the class 2 hours late and had to look off my test to pass.)
"Well, it's also the name of a goddess."
"That's a relief."
"Madurai is the Athens of India," she informs me.

Ah.

And that's my 1/2 hour.