It’s Sunday evening in Delhi, and after a short nap, a good cry, and a delicious takeout dinner, I think I am finally settling back into life in India. We returned to Nutech Mediworld, the stem cell hospital and our home away from home on the other side of the world, early Thursday morning after about 45 hours of travel time. After nearly two years away, coming back feels to No. 1 and I as both a homecoming and a long goodbye. This is our last trip.
Our life has changed a great deal since last we were here. India has not. The heat and noise, the good and (very) bad smells that greet us as we walk the streets, and the dark eyes that watch our (but especially my) every move threaten to overwhelm our senses, even on a good day. Jet lag and the construction that never, ever stops in the building next door make sleeping through the night feel like an extreme sport: nearly impossible. Earplugs be damned.
The topography of the hospital has been altered slightly with a new café downstairs, and the deletion of the front patio in favor of a portable shed that acts as extra storage for a hospital with limited space. And, a few dear souls we hoped to reconnect with have moved on to other adventures: marriage and new jobs, mostly. But, the spirit of the rooms and hallways they once filled remains the same.
Fortunately, another thing that hasn’t changed is the care and kindness of the people who look after us while we’re here and love us long after we’ve gone. Their smiles and hugs have come with the constant flow of doctors and nurses that are in and out of the room throughout the day and into the evening. Everyone has been eager to welcome us back, to know how we’ve been doing, what we’ve been up to, what our plans are during our stay, and what we want to do next.
As for the treatments, No. 1 was jabbed more in the first day than he was in the first week on our first visit. Day one, he received two intramuscular injections in each arm, one in each cheek, a deep spinal muscle injection in the neck, and two IV pushes. That night, I woke up to find No. 1 with a fever, wandering the room, and looking for Tylenol. I buzzed the nurses, and they responded immediately, their office just a few doors down from our front-corner room. It’s not uncommon for patients to experience fevers after large doses, but I think No. 1 forgot what it felt like to have an army of tiny soldiers march onto and takeover the battlefield that is his body. Far from complaining, each new batch they push into him is a welcome answer to a years-old question: how do we move forward?
For now, my next move is to sleep. It’s been a long, hot day, my husband is already snoozing lightly beside me, and a new week begins in little more than eight hours. Rest is imperative, and this soldier is battle weary.
More soon to come, including pics of our journey so far, so stay tuned!
Hold On To This 