The first time I went to India, I was lucky enough not to get sick, even though everyone told me I would. This time I was not so lucky, but lucky for you, I now have a lot of good tips for taking care of your health once you arrive.
First, you should have travel insurance. I followed the suggestion of some of my favorite travel bloggers to purchase insurance from World Nomads, which cost me about $350 USD for six months of travel coverage. I was mostly worried about medical insurance in case of catastrophe, but the policy also covers the cost of trip cancellation or even lost gear. When I needed a doctor a couple of weeks ago, I called the help line and was connected almost immediately to a friendly representative. She didn’t have any suggestions for clinics in my area, but told me I could walk into any one and just bill them later for the out-of-pocket charge.
I was looking for a clinic because I just had learned I had high blood pressure during my second visit to the R.A. Podar Ayurvedic College a few days before when I went to get herbs for insomnia. The student doctor at the College advised me to have my blood pressure checked every day, but that seemed like it would be inconvenient and expensive, so I set out to go buy a blood pressure machine.
Don’t be misled when you Google something like “blood pressure monitor Mumbai,” and you are shown a business name and exact address. In all likelihood, when you show up at the address, it will not be the store shown on the map (in this case Omron), but will be a line of stores for one or more blocks that carry the same brand name of supplies. I was completely confused when I could not find the store “Omron,” and everyone kept telling me, “yes,” whenever I asked where it was. That’s because each place I asked was a mini-Omron (and other medical brands) dealer, although there was no official store. (The same phenomenon will occur if you try to find the Asia Paint store down by Lamington Road…)
I began to record my blood pressure and, sadly, it was high every time, so I sought out a clinic for allopathic care. While I am a believer in the powers of Ayurvedic herbs, for critical situations I always seek the care of allopathic physicians. The two systems of practice are complementary, as any honest vaidya will tell you; if you are having a heart attack, go to the hospital first and then seek the care of an Ayurvedic doctor for herbs, cleansing, and dietary advice after you have recovered.
On the advice of a friend, I wound up at Healthspring in the Breach Candy/Kemp’s Corner area of South Mumbai, and I was happy with the care I received there. The doctor was concerned for my blood pressure, so he put me on medication right away and told me to come back in a week. I didn’t have an appointment either time I went in, but was seen nonetheless in under twenty minutes. The total cost of my visit was 600 rs (about $9.50 USD), and the cost of the medications only about 200 rs.
After you see a doctor, he or she will write you a prescription that you can have filled at any pharmacy (or “chemist” as they are called here). They don’t take the paper the prescription is written on, so hang onto it in case you need a refill. Last year, I was able to get refills on all my prescriptions from the U.S. simply by showing the doctor my prescription bottles, but in all likelihood he would have just written the prescription based on what I told him.
Bombay Belly
Warning: shit talk about to start. Before my follow-up visit with the blood pressure doc, I lost my damn fool mind and had a dosa from a street vendor, which probably would have been ok had I not dipped it heartily into the accompanying raw coconut chutney. This stand was right across the street from my pad in Breach Candy, and I had eaten from there with no consequences numerous times during my last visit. Not heeding the advice of my friends, I grabbed a dosa masala late one Thursday afternoon, and then felt the effects for the next 60 hours as I visited the bathroom more times than I wish to remember. Thank god for the arse hose is all I have to say. I guess that’s why it was invented here.
I knew that I had more than a case of simple traveler’s diarrhea because I had cramps and the symptoms endured long past my last dose of hot chili sauce. Luckily I was not also throwing up as the dehydration would have been more severe, but I knew enough to start drinking water with electrolytes immediately. Here that product is called Electral, and it comes pre-made in small juice boxes or you can buy the more economical sashes (aka packets) that you add to a liter of water. While there is no Pepto-Bismol (Bismuth subsalicylate) product here, there is the equivalent of Tums, which is called Digene, and there is also Imodium, but I don’t recommend stopping up the pipes unless you are so dehydrated you are in danger, in which case, get yourself to the hospital.
In the medical kit I’d packed, I also had a broad spectrum antibiotic that my doctor in the U.S. had prescribed for traveler’s diarrhea, although my doctor here told me it was not the best choice for my condition. Regardless, something worked, because things started to get markedly better within twelve hours after popping my first pill. I now have a new prescription in my kit in case something happens again, but NO MORE STREET FOOD, especially not uncooked, and especially not after monsoon when the water supply is super dirty.
It’s Always a Summer Cold in Bombay
During my last visit with my daughter before taking off, I introduced her to the joys of using a neti pot. She loved it so much that I gave it to her because I knew, just knew, I could get another one easily in India. Wrong. As a matter of fact, not one person in the four chemist stores I visited knew what one was. The closest thing I could find was a plastic salt water solution that you shoot up your nose with no indication of how it will come out. And not cheap, either —300 rs. No thanks, I can get, like, six street dosa for that!
On my miserable walk up to the grocery store and chemist, I found a neighborhood Kapiva Ayurveda herb store open,so I popped in to see if they had any neti pots. They did not, but the young man minding the counter called the doctor to find out what herbs I could take to help me. He gathered up four: sitopaladi churna, prawal pisti, giloy satwa, and laxmi vilas ras (nardia). The first three were powders, which he gracefully mixed together to form one that I was to make into a paste with honey to ingest after each meal; the laxmi vilas ras was in tablet form, and I was to take two after eating along with the herb honey paste. However, after doing some research on the web after I got home, I learned that the laxmi vilas ras had small amounts of strychnine in it and should be used only under a doctor’s close supervision, so I opted not to take that.
I have no idea about the reputation of these herbs, but the shopkeep assured me that they were made of the finest organic ingredients, and they seemed professionally packaged. I declined the more expensive herb with gold in it—sorry, but I’m dubious of the alchemical properties of gold in herbs—which brought the price down by a third. The total for all four herbs came to about $670 rs ($10.50 USD), including the jar of organic honey I bought. Not bad considering the cost for the same in the US would have been over $50 from my usual organic herb dealer. Now let’s just see if it works.
