Day 5: Friday, June 18th, 2010

Not much happens today. At 10 am I go to my “physio” session. (This is what they call the physical training here.) It is supposed to be for 45-50 min, but at this point it is more like 10-15 min. I start by stretching a little and then moving my legs or arms with small amounts of resistance. My afternoon sessions will start soon.

Jessie goes to Yoga from 4:30-6 pm down in the physio room, which is offered three times per week. They bring in a yoga instructor from a local studio and while some of the moves are similar to yoga studios in the US, much of it is a new experience.  They urge me to go, but at this point, I feel tired and sore from, you know, existing. (I’m planning a post soon about the psychology of physical therapy and Lyme pain.)

Tonight NuTech arranges for the patients to have dinner in lobby @ 6:45 pm. This basically means we all go downstairs to the small lobby where they bring out a folding table and a few chairs. We don’t all fit around the table, especially with the few wheelchairs we have, and people awkwardly try to sit together. The food is brought out sporadically on trays (where are we going to fit these trays?), and none of us are sure whether to wait for each other or to just eat. We try some conversation which usually begins with a “so, what’s your ailment” kind of question.

Jessie later comments that she is surprised how nosy and blunt people are when asking about each other’s personal illnesses, but we both realize that, well, why not? It IS the reason we are all here, and we’re all wondering anyway. All of us have come from relatively far away places and have spent large sums of money to be sitting around that fold-out table. Besides, as you know with a lot of Lyme disease cases, we don’t look "sick," so it’s common to wonder. The nice thing is, most of the patients here know at least a little about Lyme disease from previous patients who arrive and go at staggered intervals, so this is a Lyme-friendly place.

None of us really ‘bond’, but the ice-breaker is good and sets the foundation for future interactions.

Day 6: Saturday, June 19th, 2010

Today is Saturday, and the physio room is only open in the morning and is closed in the afternoon and on Sundays. My session is still only 10 minutes long. The lazy and in-pain side of me wants to keep mum about it, but the "I spent a lot of money and time to get here and heal" side of me wins with logic; I make a mental note to talk to Dr. Sudeep about it.

This afternoon, Jessie and I went on our first outing to Basant Lok. (All of the neighborhoods here are named, and we tell these seemingly "code-words" to the auto-rickshaw drivers with the hopes that they know where it is. Driving from one neighborhood to the next here in Delhi is like jumping on a boat and traveling between islands. In this sense, you don’t want to walk in between.)

Once there, we tried our first Mc Veggie sandwich from McDonalds. I feel like it’s an American-Vegetarian rite of passage; although, greasy French fries don’t hurt either. The sandwich is pretty tasty, but what strikes me more is how people in India stand in line. Or, don’t stand in line, actually. Jessie and I patiently wait for our turn as people walk right in front of us and order over us like they didn’t see we existed. After the third time this happens, we learn to stand so close to the person in front of us that it is no longer possible to "cut." I guess this should not be too surprising given that this is how people drive as well.

After McDonalds, we find a coffee in shop modeled after Italy. I know, we’re not exactly embracing the new culture, but in my defense, even being here is enough. It’s nothing like my travels through Europe. Anyway, the coffee shop contains mostly world-traveler people who seem to have been elsewhere besides India. I think it would be too expensive for the locals. I’m excited to caffeinate myself and savor my latte.

After the coffee-fix, we head into a nice, air-conditioned clothing shop where we enjoy a shopping frenzy of beautiful Kurta’s and other frocks. It’s a no-haggle kind of place and the perfect spot to ease into retail-therapy. We take our "booty" back to our happy, orange-tastic room and buzz about what a good day it’s been. We’re still asleep by 8 pm, of course.

Day 7: Sunday, June 20th, 2010

I relax most of the day (no physio on Sundays — oh darn!) while Jessie goes on small adventure back to Basant Lok to pick up my stainless steal water bottle I left in a store that sells sunglasses and to get her eyes checked. (An exam is cheaper here, but frames cost about the same as in the US.) I’d called from the front desk when I realized I’d left it and was so happy to hear they were saving it for me. The funny thing was, I’d made a point out of not giving them my personal information when I bought a pair of sunglasses…but the joke was on me because they couldn’t call me to tell me I’d left my water bottle. Ha! Oh well. They were very nice.

Later in the stairwell, we run into Jamie who is a caretaker for a woman here with neuro-Lyme and MS named Aliyah. Jamie invites us on a dinner outing to say farewell to Amanda Boxtel (who is leaving the next day, this being her 6th time here). Amanda ends up not being able to come, after all, but we still join Jamie/Aliyah and a woman from Iceland named Olaf with her daughter Rebecca. (Rebecca is here to repair brain damage from a car accident back in 2003).

We all meet outside in front and discuss how to get to the restaurant. They deal with the complications of loading Aliyah’s wheelchair into the taxi while Jessie and I hail an auto-rickshaw. The place is in a neighborhood called The Defense Colony and it takes us about fifteen adventurous minutes to get there. Jessie and I offer to get a table ready while they unload the wheelchair and such in a traffic-laden lane. How hard could it be to walk 100 yards to the building with the name of the restaurant clearly illuminated? I’m determined to be helpful…

We sit in a nice and small, albeit empty air-conditioned restaurant named Saagar Ratna and order fizzy water while waiting for our new friends…

We wait.

And wait.

And…why is Jamie outside still? Do they need help with the wheelchair? Uh oh…

Apparently, there are TWO restaurants named Saagar Ratna, which are THREE DOORS DOWN from each other. This restaurant serves northern Indian cuisine while the other serves southern Indian cuisine. I whine to myself, “Why? Whyyy?” We sheepishly pay for our water and walk down to the other restaurant, which is clearly better since it has a lot more people in it (even though is does not have air-conditioning, only fans). We shuffle around like elephants in a closet until finding the right table arrangement and begin to decipher the menu.

I proudly order a Mango Lassi (mango-y yogurt-like shake) and an Onion Dosa Masala, feeling smug that I know a little bit about Indian food. Jessie goes for the gold and orders a Thali (which has small bowls of like 7 different things) and the others also order either a Dosa or something similar. By the time we leave, the place is PACKED and people are crowding outside to get in. A guy at the door shouts to another guy in the restaurant like every minute or two: we think a brawl is brewing, only to later realize that the shouter indeed works there and they are determining how many tables are free.

I make a mental note to avoid Sunday nights; they are busy nights for restaurants since it’s a day off for people who usually spend it with their families. Their hungry families. Families who want to come to this place, who don’t stand in any sort of line but just crowd at the door. Getting Aliyah and her wheelchair out is a circus, but we power through it, working together like the secret service. The sidewalks here are a nightmare for wheelchair or walking-impaired individuals. Aliyah is a model of patience and humility and I’ve decided that there must be a whole heaven containing silent, frustrated screams from her; I’m continually amazed at the resilience of the human spirit.

Bellies full of spicy food (Rebecca drinks 3 Mango Lassi’s to counter the heat), we head back to our safe, happy, air-conditioned bubble and call it a night.