Today my system began to reject India.  Or at least its climate.

My first Monday at work was busy, with a lot of follow-up due from replies to Friday’s e-mails.  The time difference and its effects on response time are going to take some getting used to.  I also continued with plans to get pitches to a few U.S. newspaper reporters based in Delhi and Mumbai.  Monday night I went for an otherwise very pleasant thai Monday dinner with Jeevan, her sister Niv – who is a really interesting kind of health professional: a homeopathic specialist and yoga instructor – and Pooja.  When I got back, I noticed a little bit of swelling in my lower legs and ankles.  By the time I went to bed, both sides were puffed up to about 1.5 times the normal size, the typically visible bones and tendons of my ankles totally obscured by God knew what – fluid buildup, inflamed tissues…my mind raced with near-panic.  It looked and felt disgusting, though there was no pain to speak of.  By next morning, there was a little bit of an improvement followed by a vast backslide once I got vertical.  By now I was looking like the late Joseph Merrick from the knees down, and the purplish blossoms of ruptured blood vessels were beginning to show just below the surface of my skin.  Abhilash seemed alarmed as well and said that I could ask to see a doctor, maybe a family doctor of Steshia or someone else at the office, to clear things up.

Tuesday morning I did what I always do when faced with a medical conundrum – check the Web.  So yeah, it’s not the most recommended action for a non-health pro, but I needed the peace of mind.  Heat edema matched my symptoms just about on the dot.  Swelling in the extremities as a reaction to a sudden change in climate (i.e. colder to warmer), further compounded by water retention associated with salt intake.  Around noon a guy in the office, Ganesh, lead me down the street to a doctor’s office located across the street from a small Hindu temple, Shri Santosh Mandir.  The open-fronted waiting room was half full with about 4 or 5 people, and Dr. Sanjay Joshi himself sat at the front desk to receive new patients.  He spoke English well, and after he examined my ankles told me that there was nothing to worry about in terms of tissue damage or disease.  In his opinion it was due to walking on uneven terrain, as over the crumbling streets in parts of Mumbai or the slum areas.  He prescribed me a diruetic, advising me that “the urination might be more” as my body expelled the excess fluid.  A man at a small window in the waiting room handed me the course of four pills, wrapped in a small packet made from a torn page.  The entire visit cost me a total of Rs. 60 – a little over $1.50 US.Once back in office, Steshia told me to stay home Wednesday to make sure I was over this.  Prior to my travel starting, I want to make sure I’m in fighting shape.  Getting acclimatized is going to be an essential part of this, so I agreed to take the day and left via train after wrapping things up for the day.

Tuesday night began a boring but necessary convalescence, as I fashioned a foot rest out of one of the plastic chairs in Abhilash’s front room to keep my legs elevated and (ugh) draining.  The sensation was really Cronenberg-esque – my calves seemed to take on the consistency of florist’s foam packed into a plastic bag.  My hands left indentations in the flesh when I’d try to massage some of the swelling out.  It subsided in a few hours, but that evening I elected to chill inside, passing on a birthday party across town for Jeevan’s sister in law.

On Thursday the office was abuzz with news of my condition – I fully expected this, though.  Everyday living in close quarters has left privacy at an absolute premium for Indians here, and I always interpret what initially sound like prying questions to my western-attuned ears as a basic show of concern.  More walk preparations followed, and I got a little more of an idea as to when my travels will start.  It looks like I’ll be away for 8 to 10 days at a stretch once the required personnel become available to accompany me to the field.  I also had a nice talk with the daughter of the lady I met at Jai Hind.  She told me about her journalist associate and the work she did with Pratham, which is funding an NGO that she is now starting.  The aim would be to link farmers and artisans in the rural areas with urban markets, kind of like a farmer’s market in the city, but on a much larger scale.  Lots of players in this game – exceeded perhaps only by the numbers of available takers.