Discharge instructions

So we leave hospital armed with a stitched together boy and a discharge note. The discharge note covers some easy stuff we have to do: have Keir sleep with two pillows to elevate his head to reduce swelling, and some less easy stuff, like preventing the scar from any sun exposure for the next month. It's not too difficult right now because 1) he still has a wound dressing on and 2) there's hardly any sun because it's winter. Prevailing weather conditions in winter in Delhi are fog, low cloud and low temperatures. The sun rarely makes an appearance, and even if it does, it's pretty weak. But true winter lasts about three weeks, and we're about halfway through it. So before the month is up we will need to keep the sun off the scar. The plastic surgeon suggested Keir wore a cap whenever he was outside. As you could imagine, this held little appeal. And we have enough trouble getting Keir to wear a hat during the hot times, when it is really needed. Wearing one now wouldn't be the easiest job. Or, the surgeon said, considering the location of the scar, he could wear sunglasses. This was a much cooler suggestion. Keir approved. I'm fairly sure the school won't be happy with Keir wearing sunglasses while playing sport, so I think we'll alternate between the two.

The discharge note also contained a prescription for the medicines Keir would need. But unlike hospitals in the West, Indian hospitals don't have an on-site pharmacy. We'd have to go to a local chemist to get the medicines. As it was now half past 11, that was going to have to wait until Sunday morning.

Luckily we have five chemists within a three minute walk from our home. The surgeon thought Keir would need antibiotics, painkillers, vitamins and a topical antibiotic cream. I thought if Keir hadn't needed painkillers when we got home last night he wouldn't need them now. We weren't supposed to take off the main dressing until Thursday, so the antibiotic cream wasn't urgent. And if there was ever a child who got all the vitamins he needed from his food, it was Keir. He's always hungry, and loves fruit, vegetables, bread, cheese, yoghurt, food. But the antiboitics were urgent, so down to the market I went. I walked past the first pharmacy, a dusty place with a facade that probably hasn't been changed since India gained independence from the British in 1947. The next pharmacy opened after we moved to Hauz Khas in April, so it's clean and overly brightly lit. However it didn't have the medicine. It did have one whole wall of bulking up powder for body builders, and another wall dedicated to ayurvedic (herbal medicine) products. It didn't have antibiotics.

A bit further down the parade is the next chemist. It's modern (ish), but doesn't believe in increasing its carbon footprint too much. It's a bit dark. Even though it has more medicines than food supplements, it doesn't have the one we need. Right next door is another chemist, probably last updated while Indira Gandhi was alive. But it's closed. So I walk down the next lane. The pharmacy there has a good mix of drugs and the other stuff you'd expect to find in a chemist - nappies, health food, bath products, razors. But our particular medicine was proving elusive...

So back to the pre-Partition pharmacy I went. The man inside had no computer, so he had to look on his shelves to see if he had the right one. After a bit of hunting he found it. Result! He sold me the bottle and home I went.

Keir can't take tablets without a palaver, so I'd asked for a liquid. I'd been sold a powder to which you add water to make the liquid. I'm sure it's exactly the same as the ones in the West, but I've never been expected to mix the medicine myself. That's what the pharmacist spends five plus years training to do. Tonight, Matthew, I'm going to be the pharmacist! Despite my lack of training, I am able to fill the bottle to the mark with boiled water. Hey, it's just like making Pot Noodles! I have now made 30mls of antibiotics. I check Keir's prescription and see he needs to take 10mls twice a day for five days. Even without a degree in Pharmacology I can see the problem here. I've spent an hour plus getting enough medicine to last until tomorrow morning!